I need something to dull the pain,
my heads like a storm -
I need something to stop the rain.

My world is a blur,
I just remain focused -
my thoughts are all one slur.
they're overcome with Stoli locusts,
Swarm me and bring me back under -
flashes of sobriety like lightning
claps of realization like thunder.

Half a bottle gone and I'm reaching
for more pills - I need to feel the
rush, I need to let go.
Go away, and let me alone, I'm
falling and cold, and feeling slow.
Visions shimmering and the little
white pills are kicking in. Cool
me down, let me drown in my
own guilt, let me frown with
my face towards the ground.

I'm behind half a bottle and
under a handful of shrills, poking
at me they stick me like guilty
Quills.

Calm me, quiet me, heal me, solve
my qualms with the pill in my palm.
Sooth me, sedate me, tingle me from
my feet upwards, relaxe me like a
hot shower, excite me as well. Instill
within me what I lack. Give me the
Confidence I strive to have. The
confidence I fake. Slow my face,
stop the pen, and relax me from my
exhaustion. One day the pill I abuse
will finally allow me to use what
I keep deep, what I keep hiden, and
I'll actually be me. Until then Sherlocke,
I pretend to be: intaking Watsons as
nonchalantely as breathing.

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