deepundergroundpoetry.com
slow death...
As I hold the spoon to the flame,
I've got no one but myself to blame.
As I stick the needle in my skin,
I don't feel like I can ever win.
There's a moment of elation,
That follows the penetration.
But it's gone again too soon,
So I try to find my spoon.
And I'll do it all again,
'Till I reach the very end
I've got no one but myself to blame.
As I stick the needle in my skin,
I don't feel like I can ever win.
There's a moment of elation,
That follows the penetration.
But it's gone again too soon,
So I try to find my spoon.
And I'll do it all again,
'Till I reach the very end
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