Not Getting Better

Today I tried filling this void with a different boy
With his hands and tongue all over me
But still I am chain smoking away
Sitting in dying agony
I’d rather be curled up on your sofa
With beers in our hands
I’d rather be passed out beside you
Than to touch another man
So numbing my aching soul with drugs and booze and boys
Seems not to be helping–
It’s not helping at all

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