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Numb
Mar 6, 2009 17:44:10 GMT -7
Post by + RJ on Mar 6, 2009 17:44:10 GMT -7
I'm drinking hemlock, But it won't kill me fast enough. The poison would rather Bide its time, waiting, Waiting for the right moment When I'm least expecting it To tighten its grip Around my chest, My lungs collapsing painfully Until it's dark, And all I feel is the burn And taste the bitter flavour of hate. It's never enough Just to make me suffer, Never satisfying to let me go Just on the edge of dying I'm brought back. It is painful to be torn from sleep, Like your soul is left behind And your body is left, To walk down the same streets Without direction. Pain will have a tendency To dull when it has been repeated Just the same scars, Cut in the same places. I can hardly feel it anymore.
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