Alone and isolated inside my head, I begin to wish that I was dead.

Fuck this life. I feel like I've already done this twice while overpaying the price. Well isn't this nice...

Now I've driven myself insane watching as meth injects straight into my veins... Gush and squirt, panties are wet because I already came.

From the heart to the brain, with dope and a rig, there will be no more pain.

Refusing to obey and conform with the crowd, on my own standing alone has long since had me rejected by this pathetic excuse we call society.

I sit and ponder now and again if I can sustain sobriety. Ha, Sounds like a lie but then again I barely even tried.

My will to hang on starts to rust and hope turned to dust. Gifted and cursed, recognized and falsely idolized, persecuted and condemned, all the way to the very end.

A heaven I created where the burdens I carried, will finally be buried. No more feeling like I'm alone because I'll be surrounded by rotting bones.

I've been overpowered by my disease. From the womb to the grave, my vision begins to fade.

At the iron gates, I'm at my resting place. This is where headstones speak and you won't even hear a heartbeat.


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