Gravity

I feel like I am falling apart,

as if the force of my own

gravity

can no longer

hold the

broken eggshells that are me

in one shape.

The alcohol can make me forget,

at least for a short while, I am no longer weightless.

It can only be described as a kind of---

mental disturbance.

Like an itch in the back of your brain that is

so;

bothersome,

that you have to

drink. eat. drink.

smoke.

Just to get rid of those

almost-voices snickering in the back of

your brain.

But the thing is,

those flickers,

they are what fill that empty space inside

your shell.

They are what makes you,

you.

I can no longer feel the force of my own gravity.

The clawing demons

force themselves through the lengthening cracks

of what used to be me;

Until I become what I wish so much

I could defy.

Until I become all that I despise.