NURSING ON A POISON THAT NEVER STUNG.

just a little rush babe,

TO FEEL DIZZY TO DERAIL THE MIND OF ME JUST A LITTLE HUSH BABE OUR VEINS ARE BUSY BUT MY HEART'S IN ATROPHY ANY WAY TO DISTRACT AND SEDATE ADDING SHADOWS TO THE WALLS OF OUR CAVE YOU AND I ARE NURSING ON A POISON THAT NEVER STUNG OUR TEETH AND LUNGS ARE LINED WITH THE SCUM OF IT - - - - - - - - - - - - - - TAG | DANIELLA SHAE ROSEWOOD WORDS | 1063 NOTES | weeee~ forgot how to post

If someone were to compare Liam as the man he was now to the one he’d been, say, ten years ago, they would no doubt have difficulty recognising him as the same person. The eighteen year old Liam had been a scrawny, strung out aggressive little prick who was so permanently high and angry that he would have picked a fight with his own shadow. The twenty eight year old Liam was rather more together, all things considered. He was an independent adult, a business owner, perhaps a little crude and rough around the edges but ultimately much more palatable now that his anger and his desperation had long since been smoothed out by the constant pressure of apathy. You stood his past self and his present self side by side and there would be precious little to connect them. Present day Liam was new and improved. Or at least, new and appearing improved. Because ultimately, change was only ever surface deep. Skin aged, bodies changed shape, hair turned grey. People got older, but he didn’t think they ever truly got any wiser. You got better at hiding your damage, at blending in rather than sticking out, at pretending you were so much better now… but were you? Was anybody? Underneath the scraps of maturity he kept trying to cling to, Liam was the same worthless idiot he’d always been. Beneath his self-satisfied denial that he was not the petty junkie thug he used to be, beneath his stubborn assertions that he only ever used sporadically anymore and that his little hiccups of relapses weren’t even a problem in the way his reckless opiate abuse used to be, Liam was still the same. He hadn’t changed. He would never change. Nobody ever did. That was the fucking human condition right there. Then again, maybe that was the heroin talking. Being high always turned him into a wannabe philosopher. What had triggered this relapse, he was not even entirely sure. Everything, nothing. It had been a while since he’d last used. Since… last year maybe? No, he’d had a bit of a rough spot just after New Years, but that felt like a long time ago now. Very far away. Sometimes he thought he just got to the point where he decided it’d been so long since his last foray into addiction that he might as well just give it another go for old times sake, or like as a reward for his sobriety. God knows how that internal logic worked: “You’ve been clean for four months, so why don’t you celebrate by getting out of your head?” Junkie logic as its finest. Maybe there were unconscious triggers. His sisters’ re-emergence in his life, perhaps. That had dredged up some shit that Liam would have generally preferred to keep repressed. Since that day she’d turned up on his doorstep, his subconscious had wandered increasingly down memory lane – he would jerk from idle daydreams frowning and trying to pull himself from the idle contemplation of the darker days of his childhood, or wake up in the middle of the night with heart racing after nightmares of endless dingy corridors, encroaching footsteps and the acrid burn of spilt whiskey in the back of his throat. Perhaps he could also put some of the blame on Dani. Their situation was putting him increasingly on edge. It had been months now, months of promises that she would leave her boyfriend and that everything would be okay, and so far nothing had changed and nothing was okay. A part of him was getting frustrated by the delay, pure and simple, as any illicit boyfriend would. But given the volatile and abusive nature of Dani’s other boyfriend, Liam lived in a constant state of tension whenever Dani wasn’t with him – because when she wasn’t with Liam, she might be with Kurt, and when she was with Kurt, who knew what kind of shit she was having to endure. He didn’t like to dwell on that, but sometimes it was hard not to. Especially when, like she was at the moment, Dani was doing that thing where she just disappeared off the face of the planet while Kurt demanded her attention. She was gone, and he was just by himself and worrying, and it was making him feel tense and trapped, and it was wearing him down. It ate away at him. Everything ate away at him until he needed to flesh himself back out. He needed a break from his thoughts. He needed to get out of his head. But again, ultimately, the crux of the matter was that people didn’t change. That this was not something he could blame on his sister or his girlfriend or his shitty childhood or his job or any of the other nuisances and worries that dogged him. This was just who he was. Part of his genetic make up. The addict was the person he would always default to. That was all. There was nothing more to it than that. He’d taken a long weekend off work. Honestly, it had always been his intention to spend those three days drunk and possibly stoned. That was what long weekends were for. But somehow everything had gotten on top of him, and he’d ended up making that step up from alcohol and petty substance abuse to… well, back to serious substance abuse. He had not even had to leave his apartment for that first fix, considering his ex-criminal propensity for stashing small pockets of drugs in little hidey-holes and secret places. Just in case he should ever need them. And God, it felt good to just leave all that earthly shit behind for a while. To get up and out and above it all and to stop letting it bother him. It was like shrugging off a great weight that had been pinning him down. And after that, he’d found he didn’t really want to pick that weight up again. He didn’t want to come back down. So his few days off had turned into almost a week, and he knew that sooner or later he would have to stop blowing off work and ignoring everyone and put himself reluctantly back onto the wagon, but right now, he was fine. He was good. And he had no intentions of feeling bad again for a while yet.