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Tread or Dread
Billowing blackness reverberating out my chest.
It swallows me whole and fills me up to the brim.
So hard to fight but I manage to do my best.
This melancholy ocean is difficult to swim.
I drown and my eyes go dead with obsidian.
Floating endlessly in this dead wake.
Wishing I could be in a meaningless oblivion.
Without a care of everything I put at stake.
To clean this mess I will need some white out.
As if I can still feel the smooth texture of
Those miniscule pills so white and stout.
I reminisce of loathe and love.
Welcome, your perfect little girl is here,
but she craves the day she can grip that beer.