Impressing Pain

"This is a story about a girl..."

This is not me coasting,
but me escaping my four wall boundary
It's just that I'm missing (it) considerably.
Our one day a week kills me,
so you better count me in
for this (n)ever lasting adventure.

You're more like a daydream:
making me sign my life away
to better things, enlightening you(r mind).
"Your body's a magician," you say.
"It's got the capability to relax,
shut down your minds processes.
The ability to turn it all off in an instant."

The rain smells of desperation
as it hits my half naked arm
as we exchange the white tablet
through the shortened window span.
Eyes red, feeling (em)powered
by the chemical (im)balance;
you're perfectly counting,
hand to hand.

Don't drive (yourself) to
the bottom of the this
perfectly tinted, orange bottle.
It's not like these bi-weekly
hospital visits are giving
even an ounce of gain,
or loss in this case.

Not to comply with what
the loved ones are saying,
but the worse pain is soon minimized
into the size of a needle
(something thus far inexperienced,
even with this amount of emotion)
with the tilt of a head, she whispers,
"I'm only an addict
on the days that end with 'y', like today.
But that doesn't mean
tomorrow isn't the same."
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