Neon cathedral

I'm done.

No more growing up.

No more boring nights.

If drinking alone makes you an alcoholic,

Then I must be a damn good one because I always end up stumbling.


I slowly walked up the stairs tonight,

And cried when I reached the top.


The buzz was going away and I remembered all the questions I had.


Will it always be this way?


I walked back down the stairs and grabbed my whiskey.


Carried it upstairs in between two fingers.

Sat on my bed.

Looked at the wall and listened to my thoughts.

Only pausing them to take a swig.


This world burns just like my throat so it fits.

Goosebumps raised on my arm and I yelled.

"God! Why does everything have to be so complicated."

I even told the devil if it would make me happy he could have my soul.


But nothing happened so I guess I wouldn't be.


I even packed my bags.

I was set on running away.

Driving as far as I could on as little of gas I have left

And not looking back.



But as  soon as I stood up from my knees I fell back down.

I'm still lying on the floor.

Just writing.


Hoping to make some of this kind of loneliness  disappear.


I'm listening to the walls creak
And the fan blow.


Watching my dog bark at nothing and lay by side.


Wondering if I should attempt to sleep?

Or if it's not worth risking.

I don't want to think anymore.


I just want to stop growing up. 

I just want to not be alone.