001 The fine line

Double and triple. This world is owned by the devil. 4 pills, 6 pills, 8 pills, 10 pills. I struggle, I stumbled and got in trouble. A dead woman walking, and the streets are my home, the bed I don’t own, my mind is the highway, my feet are the the tyres.
I can’t write, my words aren’t settling right. A passing flight. I asked the world to inspire me, all it gave back was tragedy. Not buying.
So I take a pill, one pill two pills, then double and triple. God is the devil.
M Y W O R D S don’t rhyme, but it makes sense inside my mind.
Most of the things make no sense outside my head. I keep it in check. Because now we know, we can’t trust a friend. Gaslit. I don’t trust no friend.
The world is my foe, the world is my friend.
I walk like I have somewhere to go, the last stop is madness, thank you and please.
This is how I survived:
I got used to loneliness, I like my company now. So I’ll be fine when you quit.
If this is my last day on earth I am gonna spend it like any other. I’d sing but I stutter: I’m a dead woman walking.
Should we keep going? Does it make any sense?

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