They see me and think "oh what a quiet guy" not knowing of my pain,of what weighs my mind down,of what eats my conscience away slowly,of what disturbs the peace within me.
My demons are procreating fast,my empty spaces are being filled with evil and burdens which weighs on the mind of the disconsolate monsters living within me.
I even cry in silence,unable to show the true face that lurks behind this fake mask i wear,it hurts but i have no one to be my nepenthe,no one to explain my feelings to,no one to be my muse.
These drugs don't feel the same,they too are becoming weak and pointless,I'm afraid I'll overdose and choke on my problems when dancing,while i occasionally mend my undying relationship with pills and bottles.
