Plea

Give me a heart made of stone. Stone doesn't dent when you touch it, flesh does, and it doesn't always assume it's former shape. The cigarettes I smoke to keep from doing other things, to keep myself stable stationary and calm for a few minutes, don't touch stone. Nothing touches stone. the alcohol I'm slowly pickling myself in (nevermind I went ten months without drinking, I felt everyday of it, when I open the freezer and pull out the vodka, my heart beats harder.) Stone doesn't pickle. Stone doesn't feel. It doesn't dent, tear, or give out. At least not as easily. Give my the ability to pass time. Not skip it, but pass it. Give me the ability to make the clock stop going so slow. Give me the ability to be creative, to be alive, without substances. Send an Ice age. That's what it will take to calm me, to quiet the things that reside in my head. Take away my shyness, my embarassment, Take away my borders, my lines no one can cross. Take away my neverending unsatisfaction, my constant addiction to novelty. Give me peace. Give me happiness. Give me one fucking month without some sort of crisis. Take away the pain, take it from my memories, and leave the nostalgia, the sweetness.

Help me.