The blue box

Day one… Yes, I had to start over again. Start with sleeping too much, crying till I can’t cry anymore. People have this belief that a drug addict is a horrible person who won’t change, who fucks everyone over, robs, steals for a “fix” blah blah blah. They​ don’t know who I am. I’m loyal to the point I break my own heart. And for what? Oooh, I know… Just for the attention. That’s what it is…. Well that’s the rumors. You think I like having to depend on my dependency? You honestly think it’s fun poking a needle in my arm or putting a glass bowl up to my mouth and get high? No it’s not fun, but nessesary to forget. Nessesary to jumble my thoughts into doing nothing but look twaked to the max. Wander the streets down in the hood at 3am where pretty little white  girls like me should not be. It makes me unafraid to die. I don’t want to die, but then again, I have nothing else to live for. Today marks the beginning of the end for me. I can’t even eat my Kraft Mac N Cheese. I love the blue box. I only wanted to be a better person because of him. Not for him.. but because the look he gives me makes me feel him from across the room. Because my soul wakes up in his presence. Because when he touches my skin, kisses my lips, I understand the true meaning of LOVE. I feel God’s love through a simple man. No one will ever be able to make me feel this way. Never again.. and why would I want to anyway? Just to have the devil take it again… No. Not again. I’d rather sit here with my blue box and pray God takes me soon.

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