addiction

date written: July 3, 2015

drown your thoughts with liquor,

release the smoke from your parted lips,

do you think this makes things better?

you have become a ticking time bomb,

unstable and ready to blow.

burn your throat,

collapse your lungs,

that way no one can hear you scream.

you think this will make the sadness go away.

the donor list gets longer every damn day,

and you're still stuck at rock bottom.

the hands around your throat

grow tighter and tighter each day,

making the escape that much harder.

harder for you to say whats wrong,

harder to feel.

your eyes begin to burn...

numb.

you are empty,

filling yourself with poison,

begging to be drained.

this is a cry for help,

but no one wants to get their hands dirty.

no one seems to care enough.