Aftermath
July 18, 2013
He doesn't even hear the phone.
His skin is melted to the bone.
Flicking lighters, getting higher,
he awaits to beg the buyer.
To get more, to get more.
His body aches and now it's sore.
It's the rush. It's the sting.
All the comfort that it brings
til its gone, til its ceased,
to his knees. Amen. Now, peace.
Carry on. This isn't real.
Keep the secret. That's the deal.
I'll keep quiet. I will hide it.
I will do my best to fight it
but the horse is at the water.
I am the lamb and this is slaughter.
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