I promised Vanessa a spring poem. But I'm hating Spring right now. Instead this is all I could think of:
Music is my pain killer.
It soothes the pain, but temporary.
The lyrics have side effects.
my salty lips burn and dry.
My heart beats with the drum
I can't catch my breath - it's hard to breathe.
Screaming through the guitars and not sure what to do.
This medicine isn't helping me because I feel like shit.
Leave me alone in my misery - this music is my drug.
It gets me high and then gets me low.
Not too sure where I am now - lost in this music it's my misery.
This song knows exactly where the pain is - straight to the heart.
It doesn't heal - it's just a pain killer.
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