I crush out a cig on the steps and toss it in a beer box full of trash. I stretch up to the sky. I feel it pulling directly below my navel. The higher I reach the closer to ecstasy I become. I shut my eyes and leave this world behind. I don’t have to work for the next five days.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
Comments
Post a Comment