sugar

In this filthy basement,
of this broken home.
The window that I'm facing,
the shades are being drawn.
Tap that subtle rhythm,
familiar on my arm.
Leave behind this cataclysm,
the plague within my heart.
I no longer ponder,
of what I have become.
Now all that I wonder,
is how to get me some.
I'm running out of veins,
and running out of funds.
I'm running now on fumes,
and running out of love.
Where have all my friends gone to?
Back to their normal lives.
I could give a fuck about you,
as long as I am high.
The doses that I give myself,
have grown so very fast.
Count them there upon my shelf,
littered with tiny bags.
Before I start to think too hard,
before the sadness comes.
I'll end this now,so I can start,
I'll finish if I wake up...