I’m not okay

I’m writing this in a location far away from where my parents think I am.

I’m writing this with tears that have settled and dried on my cheeks.

I’m writing this with my heart racing, and my pupils constricted.

I’m writing this with my hands trembling, my palms sweaty and nails blue.

I’m writing this with a pain in my chest that runs deeper than anything physical.

I’m writing this in a bed, at 03:19, scared and alone.

I’m writing this, and all this time I’ve been craving more of the bad stuff that makes me feel so fucking okay.

I’m writing this hoping that whoever stumbles across this small corner of the internet can take a moment to think of all the addicts suffering in and outside of the paper thin walls that surround me.

God, grant me the serenity, to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

My heart is yours, dear reader. Please look after it.

H

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