Bags, Under My Eyes.

Beer, Vodka, Memories, And Gym Shorts.

Its been too long. Far, far too long since my last post. I don't know what tore me away, and I haven't anymore a clue as to what draws me back. Maybe It's The Beer, Maybe It's The Med's. Maybe finally I'm cracking and I need to document my final days. I really can't say for certain, as I know just as much as you. I'm writing this out of thin air right now, sleep is calling, beer I'm sipping, med's are numbing.

One of each. Whats normality?

So many things need to be written down, and even more need to be completed. I'm only one girl, with the world behind me, my doctor drugging me, and my boyfriend supporting me. I'm more lost now then when I thought I knew everything. Where was I when the last post was written? When was I in better state of mind, I'm a hazard to myself. You'd understand if you could listen to the thoughts that pledge me. My dreams are no better. And my sleep is restless. I'll edit this when I'm sober. Or more drunk. I need vodka. I need a hug.

I need my prince. 

I've killed you. My heart is absent. (Similar to an out of body experience.)

What have you ever done but love me? And why does that deserve punishment?

Because I've Died Inside Far Long Ago, doesn't mean I should drag you down with me.

I need my prince.. Prince.. My love.