You say you don't believe in hell? Just look an addict in the eye, You'll think I'm safely at a friends- while I'm in some dirty bathroom getting high. I've always had high morals; Standards stacked against the sky, You sit watching as things disappear, but are too scared to ask me “why.” I stand there, right in front of you, so frail with bones so gaunt, You still don't know the lengths I'll take, for that one thing I so badly want.
Its getting harder to catch my breath, I'm drowning slowly in my soul, Spiraling. Swerving. Plummeting. I have completely lost control. Sputtering. Stuttering. Breath wreaking of decay- When will you finally hear the words that have been so hard for me to say!?! Perpetual exhaustion: I am awake yet sound asleep, A jaded narcoleptic- why am I always the blackest sheep? Scabs form on my skin- oozing thickly, with gangrenous decomposition, Isn't that offensive smell starting to throw up some suspicion? You've found me strung out on the floor, more times than you can even count. Eyes pinned. Drooling. Slurring. Another night for which I can't account.
I always seem to have the flu, you think my immunities have gone to hell, But how quickly you see me turn around once my body gets that hit. I have always had that mindset- to never live with much regret, Not even though I'm bankrupt- and to so many emotions, I'm in debt. I've lost all of my possessions- years of hard work right down the drain- I'll always curse the day I made the choice to stick that fucking needle in my vein.
- Ashleigh Campora
