For what it's worth, I tried

3 of 4... in retrospect, we truly do create our reality with our narrative. I am not the same man.

I want to get better

but my mind fetters

with the inclusion

of a pill or a drink

because I think

it's time to eat it all

even the kitchen sink.

 

What will it take for true sedation

because all of these drugs

bring my mind to degradation

and seperation

to the point where I stare at my reflection

and have no detection of who I am

despite the inspection of introspection...

 

I shot holes in my soul

with those millions of hits I took

and they took their toll

until I'm just a ghost of who I am,

a shell of a broken man.

 

Do I know how to love?

...I suppose I don't.

I can't even hate what I see

when I see me being free

because it's all numb

when my mind becomes dumb,

 

did I have potential?

...maybe,

 

but does it matter

when I suicided my brain

splattered on the wall

of the apartment of a mad hatter,

 

It is worth it?

...can I take it?...

 

No more belief,

just a heart full of grief

and a sheath of protective armor,

to hind my understanding of dishonour.

 

Too late, that's my fate

a walking tradegy

with all of my lovers mad at me

because I threw it all away

just for a peaceful day...

 

and that never even happened!

But for what it's worth I tried

Even though every passing day

My heart of passion dies.