Intoxicated from the burning flames
That light the scented candle at night.
The flame flickering and glowing
The room to it's light
Intoxicated by the chemical smoke
That enters and leaves thy lungs,
Hurting my family,
And my dear loved ones.
Intoxicated from the bleeding fights.
Constantly hurting everyone.
And yet, I ask myself;
"Is this really the family I was born from?"
Intoxicated into the lyrical voices,
That play into my ear drums.
My heart beating along to its' beat,
And cracking with thumps.
Intoxicated to my bleeding wrist;
What a lovely painting.
I hope that once the painting dries,
That it'll stain.
Intoxicated from the work,
Of what call a hell.
Everyone hates it,
As it told to be as well.
Intoxicated,
That's what I am and will be.
And yet, I ask myself;
"Will I ever be free?"
Intoxicated;
It's burning inside me.
The love and hate,
So please leave.
Intoxicated;
Intoxicated with hate.
The hate that lures me with its' love
Like bate.
Who am suppose to be?
Who really am I?
Am I suppose to be dead,
Or am I suppose to alive?
Leave me alone,
In my broken rib cage,
Away from my life,
And to keep myself intoxicated.
YOU ARE READING
Poems From The Mind
PoetryThese are poems I write. I may throw in a quote or two, or an authors note, but some will be poems. And possibly most of them for @-SebastianMichaelis- .... Yeah. Well, enjoy!
