Have you found me yet?
Lying face down on the bathroom floor
or shaking in the pouring rain?
It's getting cold as the sun goes down.
My heart turns to ice
and I beg for more.

It's an addiction, the need to feel
something real under the skin.
I want to leave
this body completely
and just feel alive, motionless.
I want to float.

I want to twist my thoughts into nonsense
and stumble over the same three
words ­robotically:
Let me die.
Let me die.
Let me die …

You say,
“Stop this! They're destroying you!”
But my friends would never hurt me.
They make it easier.
They make it bearable.
Until the aftermath of it all, that is,
'cause at night, when I'm all alone,
that's when the darkness creeps on me.
The pulse quickens
and I lose every normal sensation in my head.
Death inches closer, and I whisper,
Let me die.

But morning always finds me
and my dear friend
Addiction calls again.