Addicted
Restricted
Left out in the cold
Painfully tossed from the car
on the road
Blood on my hands
I don't need this friend
It calls and calls
till my bitter lying end
Would it to so unhealthy
to no longer need you?
I'm so broken up
without my first-aid
I need to be kept unemotionally
restrained.
It hurts and hurts
till I can almost feel you
Until something can happen
I'll never be new.
I'll be old and decaying
Happiness lying under my feet
I stomp harder
because I couldn't feel the street.
I couldn't tell which way I had
kicked my future
It flew away, and melted to death
without a suture.