Walking away. It's not the same as running. Is it to you know that you've run in this ground. And you say take this. This medicine is just what you deserve. Swallow, choke, and die.
And this bitter pill is leaving you with such an angry mouth. One that's void of all discretion such an awful tearing sound. With it's measure only equal by the power of my stare glaring over you and over you this feeling of despair is never wearing out.
It's wearing off and it's leaving you with such a heavy heart and a head to match. The bottle is waiting the cap is twisted begging to be used and so are you.
