A broken heart will remember its wounds.

A mind scarred will remain scarred.

A body touched cannot be untouched.

But another bottle won't fix it all.

And the high only lasts for a moment.

Endlessly trying to run away from your fears.

But they're always that much faster than you, and they catch you in the end.

The monsters under your bed don't only come out at night.

They're always there, looming, taunting, reminding you of past hurts.

You feel as if there's no solace.

So you take another hit, knowing the risks but not caring.

Because to die is to be released.



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