My dealer came and went

We talked about the war

I read 100 poems

It only scratched the sore

My mind keeps playing music

My ear is to the door

It plays upon the tension

Of my heart down on the floor

I know I'm not a mastacist

I know you're not a *****

But I would give up anything

To see you once more

My heart strings played by telephone

This ringing in my ears

My drug of choice before me

I can't squelch the flow of tears

I don't want a taste

It's clear to me this pain insides for you

So I won't waste it

Should it do you good

I'll suffer worse than wounds

If it would make you smile

I'd pluck out my eyes

I'd gouge out my ears

But the rain itself would be your tears

They soak my tired shoulders

Is it in my heart or in my mind

What can I cut to free myself

I can't leave you behind