The Undertow.

Presidents come and go,
and so do the ones who kill them.
A months work of dedication
lead to a downfall of pipe dreams,
following a steam of self medication.
If this is what 'happy' feels like,
I'd rather be a long lost cause
Strung up by the shoulders with hooks
that cost too much to label it mutilation.
Secrets are earned and not bought,
secrets are what matter most.
Ruptured innards and broken bones
set the feeling of something borrowed,
then lost.
Immaculately dressed in
what looks like death,
Fear wears me like a fur coat
During the slower hours of the night.
Something borrowed and not returned.
I've been stolen, and I doubt
I have the strength to make it right.