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Different Light

Updated: Oct 25, 2022

My thought’s and my mind weren’t taken, they were just stripped. I lost my balance on purpose, I tripped.

There never seems to be any good drugs. If there ever are, there never seems to be enough. I use them all like an addict coming back, and I’m not even that addicted. It’s like my generation on social media. They all look to be the good guy. So they get on the internet and find the bad guy. Fuck their shoes and the miles they walked. They don’t want to hear a story. They just want to raise their shield of glory to show the blood of those they’ve taken down.

Fuck, maybe I just need another white line. I know I’m a smart kid but I need to be more kind.

It’s like a bad dream, the cigarette is smoking me. I drop back into reality knowing I’m headed nowhere. I don’t know where nowhere is, but I know when I’ll get there. Pretty sure I’m following the path of the old Lone Star Beer sign hanging in my room. I burn for hours, flicker for the moments that everybody is looking, then I die. What will I do to distract myself as I take some more. The blurs in my vision match the mistakes in my perception.

Searching for something, and I don’t know if it can ever be found. Cigarettes, memories, and regrets, I’ve seen this whole town.

My friends are good people but the best company I will ever have will be in hell. I knocked a bottle out of another man’s hand and knew I wasn’t supposed to. I was too busy fixated on the dirty damsel in distress. She wouldn’t fuck me in the hotel room, like she actually loved me. Like we would see each other again under the same light, but these drugs will wear off soon. She whispered in my ear feeding me whisky “Become intoxicated, think sober”.

I had crossed every line and ignored every warning. Who the fuck really cares? It’s not about how fucked up you get that night. It’s about how sober you get the next morning.

Told her to make sure her ego was check at the door. She brought her friend. She was a needle in the haystack. Heroin heartbreak from the wrong side of town. She spit out quotes. Claiming nobody needed to hear her about misery, they have their own to worry about. That's why I have a problem in my life, I hate it when I’m sober. Decorated and slightly deteriorated on the outside, but beautiful on the inside.

She didn’t live for the long run, she lived for the moment. Knew she was good enough to die young and she owned it.

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