Its Times Like These

When they told me it was good to put it down.
To put it off.
Thought I was changing.
But I think I'm at my point. Maybe pushed a little past.
Feeling it. Building up. Worried about when it boils over. How I'll turn back into that crazy beautiful [so it was said] 18-yr. old.
Who barely remembered the hand in front of her face.
Who drank herself skinny.
Who had the time of her life.
Floods of attention. Good. Bad. Everything inbetween.

I slowed down. I had to. If I wanted to keep any sort of dignity, or any amount of friends. I would've had 'friends' yes. But not those that are around in the morning.

Even those are gone. Most of them anyway. This isn't about them.

I was so unhappy. But so estatic at every shot off the bottle.
Nothing is like a hard-liquor high.

I had a grip for a moment. A 2 year moment. Balance is balance. I somehow made it work.
And then it was over.
Do you have any idea how long its been? It wasn't just me. My blood knew it too.

Fantastic + Failure = What?
Its sick how the love and hate come so close. And the results are the same.

Isn't it funny how the whisky is whats sweet in this combination?

I'm still the same girl. Only now I can hide it better. The power of deception. 3 years running. I can barely swallow it anymore.
Miami is a hell of place to be sober. Its dirty sexy, drugs and money. I'm loosing the weight. I'm heading back out. If only to realize why I went back in. I can't stay like this forever. I thought I was changed. Now I'm just going to be smarter. Which really means sneakier.
I should be thinking about what will happen 5 years from now. I thought I had it covered.

No. God only knows what 5 years will bring. I've held it together this long. I'll figure it out.