09:40am - 08/01/2012

 

I'm turning over the pages in this book of revelations about self-medication. I'm not myself. I'm all strung out, that much is clear. And i spend my whole life-line wrapped around my throat. I've lost my touch. I struggle to find the sensen making sense. And giving a semblance of a fuck. All my nightmares about you. All about you. You you you and you. There's not a night that i sleep quiet and complacent without my medication. But there's this ringing in my head, as the ghost of you hangs over my bed. I need you, now. I miss you so much. Hm. If you need me, I is available here. For you. Just for you.

 

 -AN.