10.9.17
I keep zoning out and I can't even concentrate on my own thoughts. Do I even want to concentrate on my own thoughts, though? Do I want to focus on death and decay and a comfy tombstone for me to sleep beneath in a coffin underground?
Why do the thoughts of pills and medicine cups filled to the brim seem to follow me, even once I'm thought to be "better?" Why would I much rather take a dangerous number of shots of cough syrup, as opposed to shots of vodka?
There's a cemetery across the street and there's a cemetery right next to us. There's one down the street too, we're surrounded in a way. Sometimes I think I belong in any of them far more than I belong over here. If home is where the heart is, then why the hell am I here?
I'm haunting this temporary place, I'm haunting myself, I'm haunting everyone I love.
Drive a stake through my heart and send me back where I came from.
Why do the thoughts of pills and medicine cups filled to the brim seem to follow me, even once I'm thought to be "better?" Why would I much rather take a dangerous number of shots of cough syrup, as opposed to shots of vodka?
There's a cemetery across the street and there's a cemetery right next to us. There's one down the street too, we're surrounded in a way. Sometimes I think I belong in any of them far more than I belong over here. If home is where the heart is, then why the hell am I here?
I'm haunting this temporary place, I'm haunting myself, I'm haunting everyone I love.
Drive a stake through my heart and send me back where I came from.
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