Drunken revelry palgued by inconsistencies
Thoughts of medication
Dreams of ending
He is so scared to accept the fact that it might be over
A simple pill every day
Every hour
Every minute
He doesn't care as long as he gets better
Deattached from himself
Fronting the faces
He can't see himself in mirrors
Fitting for a late October night
Trees are dying early
Cold seeps into his heart
He hopes that the doctors are right
That he can make it through this winter
And start his life anew
He wants nothing more than to be happy
He knows he is holding himself back
Addiction to a mental disorder
Can't imagine living any other way
Colder and colder at night
Slowly losing feeling
The slow death creeps forward