Over-Dose

A mastered art, doesn’t really hurt feels like going on a trip really.
I don’t do it to punish anybody but sometimes I feel like I need a kickback to reality ( my reality).
… I do it not for pain, but for a little bit of peace and quiet.
… To talk to people I miss and people I lost. People who don’t seem to notice me to.
.
Overdose.
.
Its my way of fleeing from my terrible mistakes..
It’s less painful than having to slit my wrists every now and then.
.. Nobody ever notices though, I just take about enough to appear normal…
….. Be the me that’s silent and stupid to ever speak up or even talk…
..
Overdose..
…
….. I like to be quiet at times, for I’d rather not speak at times..
. ” Should he die, that’s on you. If hell’s my portion, trust me I’d still have a way to pin it on you “… That’s something I’d say, but I’d rather not say because it’d break hearts and make me seem like am picking the wrong side of blood….
…
Overdose.
… Helps me forget my nightmares. Helps me sleep at times.
….. Makes me look at people straight in the eye and smile and maybe even say something funny while all I wanna do is punch the hell outta them…
.. makes me forget about love ( it’s probably scripted I guess) my script writer probably died of an overdose :just maybe.
…
.. Overdose…..
Controlled, have mastered the art to just take just about enough.
… Enough to bring me back, to the place where my silence is what holding pieces and pieces together..
To the place where i have so many sides that keep smile people happy..