16 November 2012
The bottle says two I'll take four or five Not enough to get sick Not enough to die
Just enough for some rest A very deep sleep Maybe I'll stay out for days Maybe I'll stay out for weeks
So okay, that's a stretch But a dream nonetheless Filled with foggy thoughts And a swirling conscience
With aching bones And a tear streaked face With rumpled blankets And a very lost race
With nightmares and demons My personal ghosts With silent screams and icy blood And the things that I fear most
It's nothing to reality In all its darkened strife This wonderland where I escape Is more pleasant than real life
Pills And Monsters Always Win • Opuss № I