Bottles without their seals or caps - just sitting there,
little foil packets torn open in despair
empty of their contents to make me feel less blue,
leaving nothing in the bottom but white residue.
A pile of poison o' so sweet in a capsule form bundle,
travels down the claustrophobic and murky tunnel,
and sits within the pit of my stomach with it all
drowning in a stream composed of ethanol.
Euphoria sweeps through my veins,
I dance; a ballerina at 4am,
making the very most of my ability
knowing I'll soon breathe my last with docility.
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 6:51 AM UTC
Bottles without their seals or caps - just sitting there,
little foil packets torn open in despair
empty of their contents to make me feel less blue,
leaving nothing in the bottom but white residue.
A pile of poison o' so sweet in a capsule form bundle,
travels down the claustrophobic and murky tunnel,
and sits within the pit of my stomach with it all
drowning in a stream composed of ethanol.
Euphoria sweeps through my veins,
I dance; a ballerina at 4am,
making the very most of my ability
knowing I'll soon breathe my last with docility.
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