Drunk

She tumbled fast into oblivion,
Oblivion was bliss.
She wanted to escape the world,
And its persistent hiss.
She wanted to find ways to be
That hurt a little less
And she wanted to find ways to cope
That didn’t make a mess.
So she drank away her worries,
One foul tumbler at a time,
Secreting empty bottles,
So the world knew not her crime.
Her slurred words were a giveaway,
Her breath told tales too,
But too drunk to care or notice,
She just downed another few.
Her life was in a bottle,
As she drank it ebbed away,
It wasn’t right, she knew that,
But she knew no other way.

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This entry was posted in depression, Emotions, Mental Health, self-harm and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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