The System

The itch, the burn...
The quiet "drip, drip"
You want to scream
But your mouth is so dry
They'll be back soon
Those demons with the shiny circles
That beeping thing scares you
I've always hated needles
Now they are a comfort
People whisper outside the door
I know its about me
They call me a "cutter"
Or maybe a few even "the crazy one"
They're right either way
Well, to you they're right
I'd jump out that window
If i could get up
What's taking them so long?
Why am i here?
What did i do?
Was it the window again?
Did i cut too deep?
Did i drown?
I'm sorry...