Friday, January 24, 2020

Morphine Fog

Pieces of my brain, all numb on its own
It's daylight all day
Stuck in the same cycle
My own ambitions nothing but bone

Everyone has their own cap
Some die with the surface broken
Some slow down after that breaking point
And become ensnared in their own flytrap

Not yours to blame, being the last person
To help me for days
And then finding me cold-blooded
That's why help refused: situation not worsen

Let me heal my own scars
And fail again
The sense of suffering is intriguing
I've become mesmerized in venom's stars

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