In And Out
In and out, I inhale a smoke so deadly to me,
A death sentence taking cause by every puff.
It is the only comfort I have to fill the thirst of relief in my heart.
For my past is the wilderness of hour buried in my brain.
The present only illusions portrayed in a recurring Day to day routine.
So vague to make it seem real.
Nobody gets it or even understands how I feel.
I am a ghost amongst the rest hiding the worst fighting within me.
Try to understand what I am saying.