It's been a while,
Since i drunk so much.
These days, my drug is just the smile,
I lay down, it's my new crutch.
I miss the days, that were softly red,
I miss the feeling of wanting dead.
My life is sore, but not so much more.
I wish, I wish I knew where to go.
Just sit in my calm place now, meadow.
It was all a lie, I told myself.
Instead, I put it on a higher shelf.
Do these feelings last?
Or do they simply pass.
I'm asking, not enquiring
something something requiring,
some strength and love,
is not enough, especially from above.
Was I always destined,
To be your friend or be your foe?
I do wish to answer, however, although....
I dont know, what to think no more.
I feel empty not just sore.
I feel like I've lost myself,
I ask for help I asked for help I ask for...
No more than the ordinary person.
Why can't I write how I used to?
Why can't I write only in pain.
Why can't I write when I'm feeling sane.
What is this curse?
What is this verse,
could it be any worse?
I feel so numb,
Down to my thumb.
I feel like I've lost my brain.
I feel so alone,
Yet I feel not alone.
I feel like I've lost again.
