three months ago i was diagnosed with alcoholism. it had gotten worse than ever before. i drunk every day of the week. i barely managed to keep up with school and work. my mom made me empty every bottle of liquor i kept under my bed. that day i moved to my dad's. there are no liquor bottles here. no brandies or vodkas or whiskies to keep my head above water. my scars are still red and discolored and they rise over my skin, bumps and hills, cigarettes and lighter burns, razors and nails. my skin doesn't heal like it used to, or maybe i'm just getting more aggressive in my methods of self destruction.
i was happier than ever. i was out every day. i was so happy. was it happiness? it felt like it. whatever. it was better than dealing with the settling in my stomach as i wait for hana to text back and she doesn't, everything is so dull and spring is always so sad. winter? autumn? summertime sadness? no. it is the springtime that takes them away from me. there is not one spring that wasn't tainted by some kind of loss. three years ago i lost mati and my lover, two years ago i lost my baby, a year ago i lost someone and it hurt at that time as well, though only for a little while. but it still kept the tradition fresh and alive and pulsing like a vein.
i have a new baby now and she's so bright i see her before i go to sleep and i can't stop. can't stop thinking about the taste of her lips and the crinkle of her eyes. her voice, god, her voice. i can't stop and i want to rip my hair out, have i gone soft? i have, haven't i. i don't fall like this for people. i want to take pictures of her, i want to hold her hand, i want to make her a cup of tea, i want to spend entire afternoons between her legs, i want to make her beg, i want to make her laugh, i want to make her so happy, so fucking happy it hurts a little bit, i want her to be happy but i suppose, then, that i shouldn't be the one to do that, i always hurtthe ones i love. she smoked a cigarette because i was smoking and she had fucking quit, she got punch drunk and threw up on the bathroom floor because i made her nervous and if only she knew my stomach was in knots too, pretty baby you are my first thought when i wake up, i only pick up my phone to check if you texted, you are the last thing i think about before drifting off to sleep, you are the one thing that's keeping me from throwing myself out the balcony and yes it's unhealthy, i am unhealthy but you see
i just don't fall for any kind of person. not even forcing myself into a relationship does it, trust me i tried.
you are beautiful. i like beauty. i like the soft way you laugh. i love your kindness, you're so kind it burns. you are so soft. so soft, i want to protect you from everything even if it kills me. you are so real, so real flesh and blood, curves dipping so graciously you look like a painting, you are so perfect in your own way, a lone ray of sun clawing its way through twilight and god, you are so beautiful i can't help it, can't help clutching my chest as i think about the smoothness of your skin and the luminescence of your mind
you are a special type of whisky
made just for me, i drink you up and you burn, you being the sun and all, you light up my insides and wake me up from the dead, i feel alive with you
a special type of vodka, no hangover and disgusting taste in my tongue the morning after, just the afterglow and the warmth spreading through my fingertips
you are my own little drug, and i can't get enough of you