The bottle tops hunt me
The next day.
A reminder how easy it is
To throw it all away.
To lose all sense
When chasing a high.
Noone is coming to save me,
Maybe I'm a bad person
And that is why?
Friends gone with no goodbye.
Over thinking everything,
So I sniff to ease my mind.
Lose myself in the powder,
Sniffing the left overs,
Trying to make sure
to bin all the bottle tops.
My chest hurts,
My head sore.
Trying to work out
Why I should carry on
When I'm so sore.
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