Pain Killers

What does it matter 

if even with the drunken mind and empty pill bottles, 

there's still sadness. 

How do I survive in a world of agony 

if even the pain-killers won't kill the pain? 

Even with the twisting stomach, 

writhing in agony, 

I take more in hopes to relinquish the addiction. 

A hollow emptiness creaks in my bones 

while it waits for another toxin to take in. 

Waiting to feel

is like waiting to breath, 

it chokes you until there's nothing left 

and there never will be. 

Why should I stay sober and clean 

if it means each breath will pain my broken lungs. 

The history is cut deep 

leaving me to bleed,

 but life gave me the medicine of drugs 

to bandage the crippled mass in my chest. 

So I apply at a normal rate 

until the mass and cut grow, 

needing more supervision and medicine. 

Until the addiction 

forces my liver to fail and stops my heart.

Author's Note

don't judge me okay i have no life

Reviews

[Graveyardfuck]

How do I survive in a world of agony
if even the pain-killers won't kill the pain?
I can really understand this couplet.
This entire poem, in fact. It's beautiful and dark. Great work.