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Growing bald from tearing my hair out. Fighting the feeling that I'm out and down for the count. This inebriation has me wanting to scream and shout. Fighting tempting temptation to want to wash it all away with a vodka bottle. In this lake of pity, I am compelled to wallow. Fighting frustrating frustration to blow these issues away with a handful of hallow tips. In the light of knowledge, I fail to take a hint. -If I had someone to show me- Vibrance is fading. Ambitions are raging. Pinned down by the almighty dollar and all or nothing. Has me at war with myself. And no help. Just people saying this is all I write about. And no way out. -I would change my direction- Traveling the path of a long line of failures. There must be something I missed all these years. Or mabey its something in these pills. That gives the bitterness to these shackles that give me the chills. Unable to brake free of them, so they hold me down. Helpless in my efforts, I am about to drown. Provoking the question of the end is the answer. -And save myself before I- Look around and see, only a select few are truly free. And I have grown weary of saying one day that will be me. Staring down this barrel I have no control over. Craving divinity to stop it before its all over. Before I can figure it out. Before I can let it out. Before I am out. -Die-