Mad For You

When I kiss you

I thank god I’m not dead anymore

See depression makes you work backwards

I’m dying an alcoholic

And your lips are the whiskey keeping me away from sober

Last night I staggered to bed barely concious

I keep a bottle nearby so when I wake

I’m pissed drunk within the hour

Your hands are the only I would let run down even the most damaged parts of me

Your eyes remind me that there is hope

Even on the days I feel dead again

Your kiss reminds me that even the imperfections can make something perfect

What I’m trying to say is

I think I’m mad for you

Not the beautiful type of mad either

The kind that lasts forever

That feels like a tornado ripped through your rib cage when it’s gone

If it leaves that is


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