Tormented by all the things I
see.
And still I don't believe.
I repress all these horrid
memories.
But when I sleep they all come
flooding back.
I think I might should see a
quack.
All the kids in my class think a
fun game is to see who can make
me crack.
My eyes constantly twitch awaiting
my new fix.
What drug will I go for next?
Tranquilizers, anti-depressants,
alcohol, or maybe weed.
For now I stick with the opiates.
Stutter cuts mark my wrists.
Blood vessels in my eyes trace a
time-line to my untimely demise.
 KariH8sEvry1 · Wed May 18, 2005 @ 08:53pm · 2 Comments |
