Hello my name is Page, and im an addict.
I drown myself sometimes
But in sweeter things then cold lakes and destructive thoughts.
See sometimes it's disguised in body glitter and shots.
And instead of bullets my gun fires tequila.
Escapism is a funny thing
It comes in all forms of running
But for those of you like me
I'm not very fast so I don't use my feet
I use liquid that tastes like acid
So as it slips down my throat I can pretend it's burning more then just my liver
It can also set fire to the void inside of me melt the edges and seal them shut so I can ALWAYS feel happy.
Because feeling sad fucking sucks
So I get it
Hello my name is Page and im an addict.
And I am using substance to run from substance
So really my next move should be turning the corner headed for help
But I am to God damn proud
So I go left instead of right and end up at the same bar i was at last night
Making excuses for myself
Like "you'll be alright there's no way you're a real alcoholic if your rent is