Sprawled on the music room rug Next to desk that addressed a fist The baby came over and laid on my chest And purred - what have you got left? I split the pills in half so they last But they still go pretty fast The side effects make me sweat So I got more pills to handle that Wake and call in, Coma, staying home again, The clock reads rock bottom The mirror mocks Now I live in reverse, Because the more I move forward The more it hurts I, incurable, cursed No more music no words Could it be? I'm sick of me BNDA43