fatal addicition

everynight i look at the bottle of tablets that lies on my bedside table.
and everymorning i throw it away,
and every night i take it back out,
and every night i fall asleep in the fear of waking up again,
but everymorning i wake up the same,
fearing life and living again,
but i cant bring myself to do,
the things i dream, and have tried to do,
but i know how my parents will react,
hating life as much as i,
and now i know it for a fact,
because these things i've tried before,
where i end up in pain, a ball on the floor,
waking up in a hospital bed,
a tube in my mouth more thoughts in my head,
and thinking of the things ive done wrong before,
and how ive done them wrong once more,
my parents eyes swollen and sore ,
but yet i keep itching to try once more,
but why put others through my pain,
because i dont want to breath again?
and now my tear crawls down my cheek,
while downstais my parents speak,
of how i need to throw them away,
but how depression waits at bay,
for the day i throw away,
my life in abottle,
my pills, what get me through the day,
and now in my bedroom my father takes out,
the pills that in his mind he doubts,
are what's making me bleed my feelings out,
through the keyboard and into your eyes,
where in the place of dread hope lies,
as i lay downmy head and close my eyes,
and again my fear of tomorrow arrives.

x P.Dalton x