I’m afraid this moment will disappear, the moment I turn my eyes away-

These dramatic feelings of deprivation that makes the depression seem relevant-

Sadly, I wish it would-

I’m here, standing among the snow and the sleeping world-

My eyes are trained to the sky, waiting for a star to shoot across-

Something about this moment makes me feel intense-

And the weight of what I’m feeling hits me hard, making me want the drugs again-

What should I do when I hit this rock bottom?

When everything is better just because I’m hurting?

My tongue runs over my chapped lips and I wonder for a fleeting second-

If I end this will the pain stop?

Or will it just be like those old days of spreading salt in open wounds?

You know how foolish I’ve been in the past?

Breaking that home, hurting those people-

I didn’t care about becoming an addict, now the drugs are all that remains-

I wanted to hit rock bottom again cause it’s the only time I’m really feeling-

I wanted to see how bad life could be so I became tainted-

And now as I’m desperately reaching for a hand that’s held out to me-

I feel as thought I deserve nothing more than the resentment in your eyes-

The distain is something I’m familiar with, it’s a blanket, a comfort-

But when you tell me that you will be my wings all I do is cringe and feel-

Your lying!