flashbacks
the end of my cigarette burning, branches snapping behind me as someone i can't see moves around in the yard, and cars far away from here are the only things i can hear this time of night.
maybe i'll sit here and smoke until i can't breathe. suffocate on this concrete. face down. skinned elbows, knees, and cheek.
anything would be better than the screaming of children thrown too hard by fathers hands that are supposed to hold and cherish them ringing in my head.
a sound not even a full bottle of wine and a bit of old number 7 could drown out. i pray for the liquor to drown me so i can escape for just a second. but i receive no peace. i know i should be processing the guilt that's not mine to hold instead of trying to wash it away with poison. another layer of shame to add to the endless pyre that i'll burn, hopefully one day soon.
the only bed i have to crawl back to won't accept my cold dead body tonight. the tobacco smoke deprives me of the only care i've ever felt.