The black and white pills
Are failing to cure me,
After three long years of running
It's my feet that's killing me.

I would have ran home
Though I ran from there,
It is only when you are alive
That you begin dying.

Black and blue bruises
Hug me tighter than my own skin,
I wouldn't know I still had blood
If I still didn't bleed so much.

I should have drowned myself by now
If I could reach the sea.
But it is in my sadness
I learnt the opposite must exist.