Mix ginger ail and morphine.
The pills are comforting in my hand.
Pop one, two and slide down the wall.
I can't feel the knife anymore.
The next day I take the seconds one at a time.
I've lost my life.
Tonight won't be any different.
Please tell me so I can repair myself.
I'll scream 'till someone cares, but no one cares.
I'll have to dig a little deeper, bleed a little more.
Then maybe they'll understand that I'm not crazy.
I just have to bleed out the fire inside me.
I have to tear it out.
Please don't wake me if I am asleep.
Sleep.
The best drug of all.
You don't feel the poison in your soul.
Or the hatred in your heart.
You just feel your heart slowing with every beat it takes.
Morphine helps.
And soon it just stops.
