Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

I learn a lot about myself
when my cabinet’s full of liquor
I tell myself that I can stop
pouring another glass

With each sip, I’m that much sicker,
but I can’t set you down
I feel happy when in pain
and when I sleep in trash

I feel the tar caked on my lungs,
as sludge pumps through my veins
my arms are heavy, and my legs broken
but I’ll always think of you

It’s just a memory that remains,
of a dragon I can’t catch
why do I do this to myself?
it’s just slow suicide.

Advertisements