Trigger Poem by Gabriella Van Der Riet

Sometimes all I can do is fall,
fall into all the things that tore my broken heart apart,
Somedays I drink to the point of no return
somehow, no matter how much I try to get up the weight of the world crushes me down on me
until I cant breathe.
But do I want to breathe? Do I want to fight?
Would my last breathe be that of honour? Or just a last breathe of survival freight?
How long do I fight the demons in my head, before they feaster, infect my soul and mind
changed without a glimpse of a whisper?
These drugs feel better than the demons that linger,
One step forward, I pull the trigger...