im robyn. im 20. my life goals are hanging in my closet waiting to be picked up and worn by me, procrastinating. i dont want to grow a day older. id rather grow younger. to the memories ive burned away. ash by ash. i feel death creeping closer everyday. the subject seems to come up often almost like a clue. a hint, i will be dead soon. i drown myself in downers. i say i love them but by love i mean fiend but dont say that. all this medicine im taking. self prescribed, dose by dose, im farther than ever before. dead, before the ship even sank. suicide, by choice, by accident. vicodin dreams and xanax nightmares. ive forgotten my name already. ive lost not one but a thousand of my most prized blessings in life. im lost. my eyes are glazed over and i cant focus on words. the sentences all blur together like the day and the night and i just feel like im falling into an infinite abyss. but im not screaming. i make no sounds. i just stare. im not even really here. even if i say your name, even if i take off your pants, even if i tell you i love you, my mind is gone. we are waging different wars. my eyes are/were too blind to see yours, none the less, mine. alcoholism-you have never been judged. in my eyes, you are my queen as i thought i was yours. my drug induced soul never saw the problems. there are problems. i dont know how to fix them or where they started, but now, im aware of them. it wasnt a wrong turn on a desolate highway. it was days, months, years of forgetting who i was. who we were. it was pills popped/snorted/fiend for. it was vodka breath, empty vodka bottles, and vodka tears. you were never judged. i stood by your side, bottle by bottle. maybe i shouldnt of. maybe i should of said something. i was obviously too fucked myself to pull anyone from a vodka bath. me, asleep/passed out, on the couch of filth. white powder remnants up my nose making white boogers. making xanax nightmares. this is who we were. this is who we were.