The Painful Truth

I wish there was some beautiful poetic way of explaining how i feel.

I wish i could paint my words into a picture.

But i cannot.

Because i do not know how to make the feeling of absolute worthlessness,

Sound beautiful.

I do not know how to make heartbreak,

Look like art.

It's not. 

It fucking sucks.

There is nothing wonderful about the lack of air in your lungs,

Or the dryness of your mouth.

I am on my fifth cigarette and believe me,

There is nothing beautiful about trying to heal yourself.

It is a messy process,

Of cleaning out empty liquor bottles and cigarette packs.

There is no easy was to pick yourself up,

Off the cold bathroom floor, 

Wash of the smudged mascara,

And pulling your self back together.

There just isn't. 

And i am sorry that i have to tell you this,

But i believe that someone needs to tell you,

It hurts far more when it's unexpected.