deepundergroundpoetry.com
Thinking
My mind is telling me i'm going to die.
By my own hands..and i'm scared.
I can't stop,
Thinking.
How am i going to..die?
Tonight?
One hand filled with pills,
Other hand filled with wine.
My mind telling me i'm going to feel just fine..
With these combined.
The cold chills running down my spine..
Tired eyes.
Depression confined.
This is how i die.
By my own hands..and i'm scared.
I can't stop,
Thinking.
How am i going to..die?
Tonight?
One hand filled with pills,
Other hand filled with wine.
My mind telling me i'm going to feel just fine..
With these combined.
The cold chills running down my spine..
Tired eyes.
Depression confined.
This is how i die.
Published 2nd Aug 2014
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