An ode to my slow death.

I feel almost like I’ve lost a best friend, or a boyfriend. Its weird, considering what I’ve left behind is something that was killing me slowly.

I feel almost like I have nothing to look forward to. Everything reminds me of you. I can’t eat because then I’ll want you. I can’t drink alcohol, or coffee. I can’t make a phone call, or I’ll want you. I can’t wait for anyone, what will I do in the meantime? I can’t go out, because I can’t drink or eat. Everything reminds me of you.

It’s weird, considering what I’m craving is a cancer stick. ‘Smoking is highly addictive, don’t start’ say the cigarette packs. I didn’t really understand before.

Smoking is highly addictive. I feel almost like I’m climbing a mountain, but I can’t see the top. And what will happen when I get there anyway? I’ll have a nice view. Just like I’ll have clean lungs. And then what?

I’m being a bitch. I feel like I could snap someone’s neck if they piss me off. I’m being a depressive. Three days down out of forever.

It’s really hard, actually. I didn’t think it would be like this. I could lie and have one sneakily, no one would ever know. But, “it is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.”

And you can be sure I will be digging that flag in fucking deep.

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4 thoughts on “An ode to my slow death.

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