You're wasted in a virus-ridden bed,
left unconscious, incapacitated,
detrimental, selfish, and sedated
with empty bottles surrounding your head.
Breathing slowly to show paramedics
that life can linger on without them there,
you sigh as vodka slides into your hair,
and those puddles begin to feel like bricks.
With both glossy, hollow eyes closed tightly,
your shivery silence could wake the dead,
sharp enough to wound those who never bled,
and I watch you destroy yourself nightly.
Maybe when morning comes, you will smile
the way you knew how to ten years ago
before the first overdose and last glow
when self-destruction wasn't your style...
But I know better now than to hope for
useless temporary recovery
because you always seem to bury me
with the brightness I don't see anymore. |
Submission Name: Overdose
