I lost my mother a long time ago.
But you see, she is still breathing.
Still here.
But is she alive?

Bottles of wine stack up,
one by one,
on top of broken promises.

Pills are disappearing
but we all know
where they go.

"You call yourself a poet? A writer?" You said to me,
last night after I told you
how I feel.

So the poems I left for you,
I took away.
The book I've been working on,
I took away.

You said it four times.
The first time, I didn't actually believe you did.
The second time, my eyes ran cold.
The third time, I walked out the door.

The forth time, I realized you weren't
my mother.

Happy little pill,
I need you so
To take away my pain
To try to keep me sane
Show me the right way
I'll consume you everyday

Happy little pill,
Numb my heart
Dry my eyes
Bring dancing colors to my skies
'cause all I see is grey
Fill my mouth with the truth I want to say

Happy little pill,
Promise me your intention is not to ****
Free my mind from their empty hearts,empty eyes,set me free from their lies
Give me the ease from this world so cold
My soul's still not sold for******* and gold

Happy little pill,
Our friendship is real
But I shouldn't take another one
Yet I know I will,I know I will
I'll take one for me
And one for you
One for everything I couldn't do
One for what was and for wasn't
What the hell,I'll take two dozen

Happy little pill,
Take me away
Mend my smashed heart
I love your bittersweet taste
When my mind goes to waste

Happy little pill,
You are the one I need
I want you my greedy soul to feed
Set me free from all the things I did
Take me to my eternal bed,dirt will be so cold and wet
It's my new home,2 foot wide and 6 foot deep
Happy little pill you'll be the only one to weep

Empty bottles of coke
faithfully littering the floor around my
desk, bed, anything they can lay their hands on.
A naive combination of sleeping pills and energy drinks
On my nightstand,
patiently waiting in anticipation,
for their next chance at tempting me into submission,
the poor man's deviled eggs with a side of Hennessy.

Ah, how great it would be,
if the lonely bottles of water by my television
could possibly purge me
Or, maybe, offer a Depression-era baptismal service
So I can find my peace of mind,
as another bottle hits the floor.

You'll run away,
But all your things are here to stay.
I'm tapping on the glass,
Won't you give me one last glance?

I'm fighting to give our love
One last chance.

Reach into your heart
And find the words so hard to spill.
Don't leave to find your next fill.
Love isn't just another pill.