Maybe
maybe it’s that alcohol is easier
than talking about my feelings,
maybe it’s that doing thin white
lines are simpler than explaining
what’s going on inside my head,
maybe it’s the emotion attached
to the trauma,
maybe it’s the blood stained skin
and the tears in my eyes,
or maybe it’s that those hunger pains
make me feel alive,
whatever it is, i can’t deal with it anymore
whatever it is, i’m done.
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