Plan B

 

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$49.57. This shit is expensive.

I catch a glance from you and you look sorry. Believe me though, it’s better we’re safe.

Plan B.

Text From Dad : “ How we doing with money? Love you son.”

I spend too much on drugs. It’s because I’m tired of working for the man. The struggle weighs a ton. Lord knows I need some medicine. I need this medicine.

There is so much to this life I am missing out on. So many new sensations I haven’t felt. The quiet worker is a slave in his own right. Believe me, I’m no one’s fucking slave.

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Plan B.

We were strangers once, you and I. When desire was raw and fresh. I was in flames for you. I’d be doing us harm by letting this linger on. Who are we if not yearning, on fire for each other?

We don’t want this thing to go too far. It’s best I leave while we’re civil, while you’re still young.

Plan B.

I can’t remember the last time I had a moment. Nothing I’ve ever looked forward to has loved me back. Yet still, I can’t help but long deeply for the future, for something different. This is a symptom of the pain. Abusive love is sweet poison. I thirst.

I was baptized in broken words. The salvation they promised crumbled like the snow under my feet.
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This is winter. Thin ice I tread formed atop dark waters and thaws when I slip into loneliness. And I have been in the cold woods for too long. I’ve held on to the reasons for too long.

I’m falling deeper.

Plan B.

Hell is other people. They all want me to be theirs. I’m nobody’s object. No one knows what I feel like when I’m alone. These are thoughts I mean to say in the stories I tell you about these people, Sara.

They are me, we are the same, and it’s all just so irrelevant.

This is why I can never let you love me.

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Plan B.

I’m begging you not to let me go.

Do you remember me before? Or have you find someone new?

Plan B.

I’m exhausted. My eyes are sore. I am rivers                 away from Plan A, who I said I’d be.

 

by @sledain //   featuring artwork from Alicia Krawchuk 



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