INSIDE THE KILLBOX

Every pinhole has a memory,

that I have forgotten.


There's a music,a movement,

in this beautiful toxin.


A "friend" that will fuck me,

but I'll let him back in.


To swim in my bloodstream,

and become who I am.


I lie,then I tie off,

tap,and I flick.


I find that last vein,

for the needle to stick.


Cliche of a coward,

reality fear.


The man that I was,

is no longer here.


Are you familiar

with the story I tell?


The utter destruction,

of one's sorry self?


Time is a prison,

of deafening clocks.


Alone,I'm unheard,

inside the killbox...