A Psychotic Attempt at Happiness

pen in shaking hand,
words escaping a blank mind,
tainted ink nervously expelled across this page.
scribbling with an unknown sense of direction,
just wanting to experience some sort of ease.
closed eyes on a moonlit face,
breathing in the words and sounds,
of the very music that heals and kills.
chewing on painted nails,
too short to gnaw.
collapsing, while already lying,
on a mismatched bed,
in a cluttered room... shared by two.
staring into a tv screen,
just as black as the ink,
that supposably soothes.
pen in shaking hand,
words escaping a blank mind,
tainted ink nervously expelled across this page.