I guess that’s it.

I guess this is the end.

No more fear.

But no more love.

No more feeling

that what I’m doing is right.

No more feeling

the will to put up a fight.

Now I’ll just give up.

Sit dead on the field.

Punched and kicked all over

so I forget how to feel.

I’ll get beaten down so far

that I’ll forget what it’s like

to have an advocate, a friend,

someone working on my side.

The last day for a chance

to make things right

and I just fucked it up again.

Can’t wait until tonight.

Give me a drink or two,

something fun to do,

so I can forget all about it

and start numbing myself

before the beating begins.

Before the words start flying

and I have nothing to say

let me just take a moment

let my mind fly away.

It was so beautiful, once,

so fine and carefree.

But now it sits lifeless,

cringing in agony.

So before it begins,

let me remember myself.

Let me feel the rush

of juice to my brain,

the feeling of happiness,

instead of pain.