Hell Of A Pill


My gaze turns into a grimace,
the way you look makes me wince.
You're strung out on something sweet,
the warning labels you neglected to read.
You've set your hopes within a high,
this reflection has me terrified.
You use just to feel like you are brave,
but you have become a substance slave.
Depending on a drug happy ending,
you know you never think anything through.
What is the point in this message you are sending?
The only one who's pretending is you.
I'm not impressed with suppressing depression.
I walk unwell and feel like hell.
I'm face to face with this recognition.
Tears begin to swell.

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