Jaded, disconnected eyes,
Scanning for material pleasure.
Misfits, telling only lies,
Pretending it'll get better.
Silence, they're scared to speak,
Get annoyed when they won't listen.
Lying, brain-dead and weak,
Needles create the incision.

Burn the thoughts you don't need,
You never wanted them anyway.
Pity fuels your greed,
But you can quit any day.
Relinquish all that you know,
Give in to your desires.
Quick-fix, to make you go,
Adding more fuel to fire.

Poison: to cure my disease,
I get off with the danger.
Increase the morphine,
God is no one's saviour.
Cirrhosis of the mind,
Cannot sleep but I'm still dreaming.
Help me, I've gone blind,
Cannot speak for I'm still screaming.

by Bryony Sheldon

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