Sunday

Cigarettes, wine, and a numb that isn't so comfortable

I'm holding a freshly lit cigarette in my left hand, and the red wine I bought earlier that day. As I roll through the town I feel so empty and hopeless: those jumbled along with heartless and a tingly numbing feeling I like to think of as lust. A lust that has been lost, of course. No, I don't feel a thing as the people look into my eyes for some kind of recognition or approval. What do they want from me? Do they want my soul? It was a sheer struggle for me to be there at all. It didn't matter how many times my friends hugged me or told me that they loved me. I felt nothing and wanted to rip down the world with me in a twisted black hole where not even the dimmest light can survive. Thank god for spring, or else I might have been a zombie. At least I can carry myself with a shred of dignity when there is color outside..

I'm completely alone at a table of friends, I feel nothing for them. Nothing.


You know, sleeping occupies most of my time these days. 
love, polly