breathe

breathe. 

i say. 

fucking breathe. 

fucking hypocrites- telling me everything will be fine. 

their life is falling apart just like mine. 

they know nothing will be fine. they are trying to comfort another being. 

my god i need help.

i haven’t been sober in months

cradle me in your arms and tell me to breathe 

please- i fucking need you. 

and all you do is try to comfort me. try

you never actually will. you will hand me a cigarette, or vodka. 

but then you tell me to grow the fuck up and breathe. 

for some reason it gets to my minuscule head and i remember

this will make me grow

or maybe it’s just the weed making me dilusional. 

either way maybe i’ll try to win your love over- you’ve always wanted a flowery good girl. 

soon you will have one

no more heartaches or heartbreaks

the nights are better since i’ve found you

and the days are brighter since you’ve been here

im grown now

im myself

i can breathe.