In Pain's Abyss

I have grown so weary of this hurtful place,

time moves so slowly in this manic space,

it makes me tear out my hair,

and writhe in my sleep,

it makes me drown in despair,

drowning in the tears that I weep,

how can I free myself of this pain?

Can I scream the pain away?

Perhaps if I yell hard enough at my mirror,

in tones so shrill the glass could crack,

then I could do away with this damn reflection,
that refuses to stop staring back?

Can I write the pain away?

The screaming voices,

the ghouls of memory that emit foul vapor,

can I brutally murder the fiends,

and bury them in tombs of ink and paper?

Can I laugh the pain away?

Will it disappear if I fill the air,

with hardy har har's and hee hee hee's,

a lopsided grin and tearing eyes,

a stitch in my stomach and slaps on my knees?

Can I drink the pain away?

Oh Mr. Bartender,

would you be so politely inclined,

to hand me another of those delightful concoctions,

that can possess and deceive my mind?

Can I f**k the pain away?

Detach myself into a world,

of pleasured moans and longing sighs,

forgetting myself in supple mounds

of flesh and softly shaking thighs?

What escape have I not tried?

Am I truly, truly forced,

to simply wait this pain away,

trusting that the healer of all wounds,

would eventually lead this pain astray...