Trazodone Drone

Boredom gets the best of me

The bottle that slumbers under my bed

Beacons to me while I fight to stay sober

But addiction overcomes my resistance

Fourteen, maybe sixteen

The white pills slip down my throat

It’s okay, I’ll give it ten minutes

Life kinda sucks when you’re a trazodone drone

Colors fight over the space on the ceiling

While I spin down through space

Brushing against the nonexistant fur.

Published
Categorized as poetic

By QuietFairWarning

Russian Roulet- My favourite game. Death- my favourite state of being. Suicide- yeah, within 24 hours of writing this probably.