My Drugs

Copyright, Bree

Being with you was a drug
Not the kind that cures headaches;
a drug that damages.
I do this;
Damage myself;
with drugs of some sort or another.
They help.
They all numb reality.
They all is some fucked up way;
make life more bearable.
I’m not sure.
So I guess I’ll just keep using.
Until I beat the habit;
or until;
it beats me.

Fine Again

Copyright, Bree

these days seem to be getting longer as the hands of time do us in,
i say goodbye to more and more:
letting go of everything i ever thought was worth something
seems there’s no one in my corner any longer
and there’s not enough strength here on my own
long ago to be alone was a gift, a right, a novelty
now it has written itself as a curse on my souls own script
what is left to give when there is nothing left
to stay in this place i’ve sacrificed everything i’ve ever had
but as the days grow longer the term “fine again” doesn’t seem fine
what’s left to tear if everything is torn to pieces,
scattered among hopeless dreams and thoughts of survival
just to sleep is a prize in itself,
escaping for a few hours only to wake up to another day of the same thoughts
the same actions, the same disgusts
eventually there will be absolutely nothing left
and all this will be over


Copyright, Bree

Tears collect in a bottle
Deep inside
So no one will see them
And ask me why

I know that they love me
But not as I need them to
I wouldnt want it from them
They couldnt if they knew

People talk of ideals
Of being together
I hate being detatched
It’s a hate I can’t weather

I hate caring about them
But I can’t let them know
Thats why tears live inside
Thats why they dont flow

Sometimes its too much
To fit in my head
The funny thing is
My tears are blood red


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