Somewhere my alarm is going off.
Somehow I’ve woken up.
Alive. But not in a way you feel blessed and uplifted.
I’m not sick or dying, it’s not that kind of miricale.
In the way you know you could of died. Or worse.
Terrified. How could this happen? Again. I will never learn
I wish I could say that the morning was a blur. That I don’t remember the details; earrings, taxi, leather skirt, mesh top, daylight, the sea.
I’m not even late for work. It can’t be that bad!
It’s bad. You know it’s bad but somehow you needed one more night of confirmation.
One more night I’ll never remember, one more morning I’ll never forget.
What I don’t know can’t hurt me. Right? Wrong.
What I do know is; I’m that person again. That girl that I was trying so hard not to be. That wild animal. Uncaged, unchanged.
Alcohol seeps through my pours and last nights makeup doesn’t seem to fly at the Estée Lauder counter. Hot mess, at best, I try to go about my day but I feel like an anarchist in the eastern suburbs.
Sydney doesn’t agree with me.
Especially on Sunday mornings.
– Ghastly Robot
greedyghastlyghoulz 