19-9-09

19-9-09

I haven’t bothered to shower for days
It’s not like I’ve anyone to impress.
My hair feels dirty and I smell a bit funny
But most of all my minds feeling a little dim.
My eyes can’t quite make out the letters
I’m scanning, burnt edges and I need sedation
just to sleep at all and the side effects mean
I can’t stop shaking, I can’t keep my eyes open,
I can’t quench my thirst and I jump at the sound
of a scratching pen.

Just another day in a body of the dead
It’s not like I’ve anyone to impress.
My motivation ran away with time
and my will to live made it a threesome.
My eyes can’t make out the beauty
all these people keep on speaking of
I need seven tablets just to make it through
every damn day, in which I’m so damn tired.
I can’t stop thinking, I can’t stop hurting,
I can’t stop wishing that the pen in my hand had
the power of a gun.

Ink is such a joke, scratching, penning
words that don’t mean anything to anyone
but me and I’m just wishing when that rope
was around my neck, I’d taken that step.
Ink is such a joke, screaming in colours
that I want nothing but to…
Ink is such a joke, just crying out for…
Ink is such a joke, just writing variations of
“I wish I could grab a fucking rope,
Knot it around this useless fucking neck,
And take that one little fucking wussy step,
And smile wide as I fucking choke “.