The metallic taste on my tongue hasn’t left,
my head spins from the smell.
My arms are numb from the needles
superoxide omeprason astadol tramadol
maybe I can use them to praise God or
write poems or take in another needle, but God bless orals.
My esophagus is burning now
my patience withered out.
Maybe this time, Leonardo. Maybe this time.
Here’s a little prayer circle for you.
I don’t wanna die because the world is nice
and cute, a little cruel, A RUTHLESS BITCH
but meh, never mind.
Besides that, I want to write
write my sadness and troubles,
write my little joys down,
write my hospital stay after the stitches
and how I made my headaches a crown
like those crazy little bitches.
Then I’d get out of the hospital and
skip classes, skip school,
skip the old life for a cigarette
and write more.
Who needs a degree when you can write more?
Who needs the old life when you’re bored to the core?
But when you’re dead you can’t write,
and I don’t wanna die
I haven’t yet gotten my Nobel Prize.
- Heroes: Reborn
- Foster The People’s new album
- Troye Sivan gets 1M Twitter followers
- Glee’s comeback
- Lana del Rey sings for Maleficent
(and srsly, I can’t get over this gif)
This is the point where I regret not watching Breaking Bad.