part of me knew what i was getting myself into as soon as i stepped foot onto red persian carpet and the way my hands stuck to the railings and linoleum white walls. the door was double locked, and it also had a bolt no getting out and no coming in third floor sliding glass door didn't seem worth the risk. i watched the bed spread out and this television show used to play when i would get ready for school. and i can't connect the events although i look over both, unfeeling, and i see what i'm doing with no complaints, and seeing that this life is the same, but how could these two lives be the same? i saw the carpet was like sand and my knees burned against them. i ran my tongue along the glass that i shortly filled with brandy and the bathroom held me the bathroom watched me i left myself when i left the bathroom because i needed a moment alone, because the way my face looked was going to make it difficult.
was i supposed to blame someone else so i could deal with this, so i could understand why i was doing this? because two hours went by and i saw how something like this could ruin someone. i waited for a long time to get what i thought i deserved. well im not going to run from the truth, i just won't acknowledge its existence. it's not that i'm afraid it's just a waste of time. whats the point when i'm just going to end up back where i started from? nothing ever works out the way you pay for it to, but i deserved the worst that i got.