Overdose

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 06, 2016

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Submitted: September 06, 2016

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Pictures create nostalgia,

Which leads to broken hearts,
From feelings that are now broken,
And these pictures serve as injections,
Of pain into my veins.
 
Treat them as a drug,
Because while these memories once brought a thrill,
Now they only cause my pain,
And degrade away from the present.
 
And I ask myself now;
Am I addicted to nostalgia?
Or just these memories that come with it;
Am I addicted to being sad?
 
And I ask myself now,
Does that even matter?
For with my addiction,
There is no rehabilitation--
And whichever I'm addicted to,
Is simply an analysis--
One which leads to no solution.
 
And I waste my time,
Pondering which it is.
I waste my time,
In feelings of sorrow,
And sadness,
And brokenness.
Should I give up?
 
I search in my quest,
For hope.
And consistently I'm looking,
For a reason not to give up.
A reason to smile.
A reason to breathe.
 
This quest is difficult,
And yet I am persistent.
But persistence can be perceived as foolishness.
So, does this endeavor make me foolish?
 
And while I live on in my disease,
The disease that is this addiction,
Life injects me with more sadness,
And these metaphorical veins collapse.
 
For I cannot take anymore.


© Copyright 2017 Jacob Galloway. All rights reserved.