1, 2, 3, 4, Pills that plant me to the floor.
by : naekole
Disregarding the words of others, I have felt this vast emptiness in my void of a life.
I feel this, stupidity, anger, hatred and self mutilation, and I feel I still can take a whole step further.
I stopped writing for almost a month, because I feel that I could do without.
Insanity strikes and I am no longer in control of anything.
Not trying to be master control, just trying to have a grasp on something.
Am I really in love?
Am I really in doubt?
Am I really lusting?
What is all this about?
I want to feel loved, and wishing to find it in someone that I barely know.
I want adventure, I want mystery,
I want something lost within me,
Blast, and find this fucking treasure,
And there lies await sexual pleasure.
Ah!, but enough is enough, the pills are kicking in.
Am tired of writing down all my fucking sin.
Rhyming is a gift, they say, they tell, they jest,
But it is just a way to get this shit out of my chest.
Bah, but enough is enough, again, the pills are taking a toll,
I wonder what mysterious wonderland is about to unfold.
I am eager, I can't wait, bring it on, oh strange mysterious pill,
Take me fucking far away, take me if you will.
Now pop and extra two, and sew those dead blood eyes shut,
And churn away, those drugs and alcohol deep inside your gut.
Now suffocate and foam, dream away mysterious child,
Walk into the forest of dreams, and the world fucking wild.
Now, no more slumbers for this lost, fucked up little girl,
And welcome to the drugged up wonderland of a world.