Flying High
FLYING HIGH...
The pipe is the trigger
I load my gun
And swallow the bullets
Straight to my lungs
With every drag
And hit I take
My thoughtless mind
Will come awake
All the months of pain
I can no longer take
No more loved ones dying
Or endless hours spent crying
ON this substance I'm relying
to escape I'm tired of trying
I'm not living
Just slowly dying
maybe just denying
Only time the pain subsides
When I'm high flying
Copyright © Diana Vee | Year Posted 2016
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