hedonism

when you fall apart before you even had a chance, it’s hard to forget. there’s always these infinite possibilities, picture perfect scenarios, gram-worthy photo stocks

i ask myself why it’s so damn hard to forget, if i’m just a hedonist trying too damn hard to hold on to it.

i tell myself i’m not alone. you expressed the same sentiment, once.

i ask myself why it’s so damn hard to forget, if we’re both just pleasure-seeking junkies awaiting our next sweet hit.

i remind myself that there was pain. lots of it, probably endless amounts spilling over, if i’d continued to stay.

i ask myself if you knew what you were doing, dousing and lighting and nursing my wounds. play rescue doctor and evil surgeon until i’m nothing but ruins

put morphine through the needle, i’ll try to forget. my body grows lifeless; seeds of paranoia, resentment, and disgust are met.

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hedonism

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