I feel the slight tremors in my hands and feet,
The blood rushing closer to me.
My stomach rises and churns without cause,
The red vile vomit expelling from my body.
I feel my head getting light, as if night is approaching,
And if I think about the things that hurt, I swear I would die.
I long and linger for a drop of alcohol or a cigarette in my mouth,
Anything to take the edge off my heart.
So when the doctor asks how I am doing,
I tell them this: please help me...
