Easy Fix (poem)
Easy Fix It was the sort of feeling I always drank on: Frustration, Banging my head against a wall Screwing myself into a ball Wanting to shout out, to get away, To calm my mind, a need to relax. The easy fix that always works. Flushing myself through with poison Washing what’s inside away To find myself in exquisite numbness. Short term gain and long term pain.