That feeling when you're empty
And lonesome
In need of distraction
Something to fill you

That feeling when you know
The world is cold
And you just want
To be warm

So you push and pull
And struggle
Past the wall of thoughts
And worries

Forcing your mind to the alley
To the ***** streets
Where lovely things die
And the wholesome withers

You dive into nastiness
Depravity
A ****** highway
To hell

Because when you arrive
You die
And not in the way
You hoped you would

The hands and mouths of ghosts
Have all left
You're cold on the bed
And still alone

The last light of ******
Flickers out
Like a repossessed dream
Like a phantom

The space between sleep
Is now laughing
But you cannot tell
From whence it comes

Reminding you of
Your feeble attempts
At escaping
By the highway