That rusty needle to my skin always make me crack a grin but only for a moment. It pierces me like a fearless bee trying to find a way to survive. I know it's bad and it doesn't feel good, but it's the only thing I know. I'm so used to your shameless games and your nameless frame I forgot how to glow. You're my ironic drug dealer. You're a hypocritical ****** hero who is always so officious with your feel. I don't want to feel that's why I feel you cause you're numb. Your heart is made of shallow ruins while your mind is made of city streets. I try to run but I need the needle piercing deeply in my epidermis as I weep "call the pity police" but no one comes because there is no pity. You never drug me on purpose I stick the needle in myself, knowing I'm going to need better health. I'm choosing your satisfaction over my beating heart. One day this needle, this drug, this feel, it will all go away, and I will find more drugs to help me stay, alive.