Zoloft

The disease in my head, how can such a happy lad welcome death? The drugs make the world a lot more comfortable. I'm tired of just sitting in black and grey, I'm ready for something beautiful, prepared for a brighter day. A mirror on the wall, cracked, grimy, and somehow off. I see my reflection, I can see my soul. I can see my heart beating, I can see myself grow old. This is not where I want to be, trapped in my own prison. Confined to skin and chains, this place grows loneliness and hate. I close my eyes and pace myself. Riding in each heartbeat, I can see something beautiful. I can feel the sunlight on my face. This is where I want to be. Happy and so set free ... I close my eyes and spread my wings, ... prepared for another day ...