Running From the Memories
By Blythe
You're at the bottom of every bottle Burning at the end of every cigarette Dripping red into the powder You're in between every line Ringing in my ears Spinning in my head Rumbling in the pit of my stomach Running down the cuts on my wrists You're the drug in my syringe You're the food I can't eat anymore I can't feel my legs I'm running in circles Drowning in the memories I drink to my tears... And smoke away my fears... But the keep coming back I can't run that fast They always seem to find me... Written January 15th, 2002 © on Jan 14 2002 03:49 PM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"You're at the bottom of every bottle..."