the last farewell tour

you aren't coming back this time are you.

i kind of got that feeling

  when you walked out the door the other evening.

it was so cold in my room

  you took all our heat with you

  that's not f*****g fair.

I've been trying to ignore it mostly

  the empty feeling in my chest

  but it's so hard to look past it

and no one else loves me anymore

  because I can't stop smoking meth

  but I probably deserve it

  because I carry on even though it's not worth it

it's not the best

but it's what I get

I guess.

a sad song was playing when I woke up

but I didn't want to think of us

I try to get ready

  and your clothes are everywhere

  and strands of your hair

  and all your f*****g makeup is smeared

  across every surface

I can't take a f*****g step

without an unwilling encounter with your mess - 

  you made it, all the pieces

  the parts that you left.

I should clean up and throw away all your s**t

but a part of me can't,

because then it's too real

  even though it already is

  and maybe one day you'll come back for all of it.

my hopes are high

but not as high as me

because I know my chances are slim

unfortunately.

now I'm not sure what to do

but sit and rot in my room

breathing toxins into my lungs

I don't give a f**k

  because you don't care about me now

  so why should I?

I need someone to live for - 

  it's pathetically tragic

  like me, an addict

but I don;t know how else to see it

my self-worth got lost when you were leaving

and my friends all shrug me off

because I'm too lost

they don't come, won't come 

  to find me here

  teetering this cliff near

  the edge, near death.

whatever, it's not up to them.

I want to die.

I'm sick of having to decide.

I'm sick of being lonely at night.

I'm sick of everything, I'm sick of life.

I'm sick

  of not being sick

  of getting high.