These bones have never felt so empty, this heart has never been so heavy.
You used to say it numbed the pain,
But even the pain has upped and left you;
You’re just as empty as the pill bottle discarded on the floor.
You stare at the door,
Claw at your eyes as the walls start to pour
Ink and scattered papers,
And pools of blood on the floor.
The drugs don’t do much else but trap you,
Pin you down like a whore,
A feeling you’ve gotten used to,
The only one that shows up
after your body has grown tired of being numb.
You used to want so much more from life,
Demanded so much more out of your own extistence.
Why didn’t you fight when they carved out your insides?
Instead you grabbed another bottle,
Drowned in booze and swam in pills,
Stayed just far enough away to hide from Addiction,
Kept enough of a fire going to maybe start over.
To maybe feel again.
To come to terms with the things you’ve done,
With the things you’ve seen.
So why are you running?
Even you know you can’t outrun the things in your head.
They’re the only things that never leave you,
The only constants in your bed.