I try to express you what I've been feeling
But this wretched rush is coming up my throat again
This must be you..
I need you to *******.
******* *****.
Should I swallow the bile In hopes it descends deeply and lies in the depths of my ever aching belly?
Or shall hack you up and spit you out and flush you down the drain
Then wash my hands of you?
My finger tips are stained with the nicotine that has been nursing my anxieties lately. How therapeutic these Cigarettes Have been to me.
Scorching my throat as the air fills my lungs
When my lungs finally do give out on me,
I will be numb.
I probably won't even feel it
I haven't been able to breathe in years.