The Morphine Circus
The IV's in his pocketBut he'll pretend for nowThat his sun is not all black and wornThat his smiles are not non-existent frownsHe waits for the morphine to take its tollSo he can slip into candy cane futuresAnd beaches of well And islands of normalAnd tubs of clear breath and gold suturesAnd the morphine works the same as any dayAnd he plunges into the surfaceAnd he hopes it always stays the sameFor the sake of its vital purposeBut for all he knewTomorrow could bleedAnd the pain inside could resurfaceFor all he knewTomorrow could bleedAnd he could be trapped in the circus Written August 17th, 2001 © on Aug 17 2001 02:00 PM PST, Katrina Armour 0 • 10
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"The IV's in his pocketBut he'll pretend for nowThat his sun is not all black and wornThat his smiles are not non-existent frownsHe waits for the morphine to take its tollSo he can slip into candy cane futuresAnd beaches of well And islands of normalAnd tubs of clear breath and gold suturesAnd the morphine works the same as any dayAnd he plunges into the surfaceAnd he hopes it always stays the sameFor the sake of its vital purposeBut for all he knewTomorrow could bleedAnd the pain inside could resurfaceFor all he knewTomorrow could bleedAnd he could be trapped in the circus..."