I collect ill-fitting prescriptions
suffering from a hollowed out heart
morse code thoughts drowned in encryption
doctors pull my nervous system apart
they can't find a cure so they try true loves kiss
they package him in an orange pill bottle
bite-sized pieces of pure chemical bliss
I take a handful of shortlived lust and gobble
these synthetic feelings stuff me momentarily
I can't digest them so they absorb me instead
blood boiling until I'm filled with transparency
first I'm empty, then I'm bursting, then I'm dead.
they say love is the cure, yet every time I dig for that feeling I just find myself in a deeper hole.