Intoxicated

If I was 21, I would drink until my insides started running out. I would poison my insides with the very thing that most states won't allow you to consume on Sundays. I would let the liquid color my insides black and blue, until purple shows up on pale ghostly skin. I would swallow until my veins are pulsating out of my skin, until I laugh at the mere reality that I’m dancing with death. No one told me that this would be hard, but everyone whispered their own toxic thoughts in my head and persuaded me that they were my own. What happens when you let a bottle dictate your next move? What happens when you fill your body with something that could kill you if you take too many swallows? But the excuse that escapes your lips is, “ I just had to let loose. I can’t keep everything inside anymore. ” But what happened to therapy and letting someone with a degree tell you whats wrong with yourself? The light in my eyes left a long time ago, and I laugh at the disappointment of allowing myself to slip through the cracks in the asphalt. Why not let myself go completely, become completely detached with reality and a sense of recovery. Have you ever been so intoxicated, you don’t even remember who you are?