i don't think about you anymore. except when i become my own lowest point. you cross my mind then. briefly, grazing the edges of my reality, impersonating a friend.
but i don't need you anymore. so, every time you knock, trying to sell, wearing your shiny labels like a badge, i'll shut the door in your face and let the night take you back to the abyss you crawled out from, veiled in shame.
this one is about a low point in my sobriety journey.