methadone

heut zu tage ist es eine strafe ein gutes herz zu besitzen.

i’ve been swallowing cigarettes with coffee for breakfast and i can’t remember the last time someone told me they loved me. i went from humming in the shower to crouching on the tiled floor heaving my lungs out not knowing where my tears began and the water ended. i always say goodbye to my loved ones as if that’s the last time i’m gonna see them because i forget to look either ways before crossing the road nowadays and find myself almost wishing to never make it to my destination while i’m inside a car or a plane. i read somewhere that “you never know when the bus is coming” so i think since then a part of me has been living in a way as if i’m always expecting for the bus to hit some days it’s ‘i better do everything that makes me happy and tell everyone i love them before it hits me’ but more often than not it’s ‘why hasn’t it hit me yet.’