One hit after the other.
The room fills up with smoke.
Bloodshot, droopy eyes.
Thousands of needles dance on my skin
Numb to the touch.
Getting high to mask the pain,
but the pain will soon come back.
The high never last.
Soon enough getting high won't work.
I need something stronger,
I need the high.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
In My Head
PoesiaJust a collection of poems that I personally wrote. Everything belongs to me, please do not steal my work. Enjoy :)
