What’s the point?

This mask is breaking,

My will is fading,

How can I possibly carry on?

Because I’m emptier than the bottle

Of the numbness in my hand,

And I ask myself, what’s the point?

 

I have this craving,

This senseless aching,

I know the remedy will end all of this.

I need a bottle, or a crateful

And a needle to soothe me,

When I ask myself, what’s the point?

 

Take me, oh Lord please just take me

To oblivion…

Take me, please, to the world

Where I feel none of this…

Take me, oh Lord please just take me

To a place where I am numb and pale,

No more asking, what’s the point?

 

Let me sleep, on the concrete floor,

With craving gone, my body sore.

Let me lose myself, in sex

drugs and alcohol…

So no more pain for me,

and what’s the point?

 

Let me be lost in lace and powder

and cold vomit in my hair,

clutching bottles of the saviour

that will soothe me…

 

Where does a girl go when her

heart is lost in heaven?

But her soul is rotting

Lost in hell?

 

What’s the point?

 

 

 

 

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