The Disease

Off in the thickening darkness I hear that voice again.
I am floating. Where am I?
The poison sits on my tongue…
I can taste the sharp metallic souring.
The saliva forms… I will never thirst again.
There is no happiness in peace;
there is no peace within the bottle’s please.
Whoever thought to drug the sickness
didn’t understand the fucking disease.

I am sinking. Where am I?
Froth encompasses me.
Breath, burble, suck for air –
Smell the rot, taste the slime that coats my gums…
I will never breathe again.
There is no happiness in peace;
there is no peace within the pipe’s please.
Whoever thought to drug the sickness
didn’t understand the fucking disease.

Now here I linger. Where am I?
Past, future, now – All sense of being exhausts.
The heart bends, binds, bleeds out.
I scratch at the surface of life…  I will never live again.
There is no happiness in peace;
there is no peace within the pill’s please.
Whoever thought to drug the sickness
didn’t understand the fucking disease.

-Intuitive Ginger

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