Powdered Angels

Every fall led to a car that headed to a bar and within minutes of arriving the company would find me(misery)and together we hit a stall devouring our sorrows with powdered substances and raising hell until the morning sun... When we awoke feeling like shit, we would forget the pain that led to the strain causing the relapse in the first place, the guilt we wore on our faces never looked familiar enough for us to take blame or name ourselves for the actions... The lows always led to the highs and the highs led to the inevitable goodbyes as we hid beneath our drug induced disguises that we enjoyed so much comparatively to how we were seen through our loved ones eyes...