i didn't take it

all i see these days is whitewashed walls
dirty sheets and bottles on the floor

i'm falling apart from the inside out
you can see the chasms all over my face

my friend sleeps in the room next to me
we talk but he never seems to notice my slow dying

my words are muffled and i can't move
but he laughs and laughs and laughs

sometimes i have to turn on the tv
just to drown him out before he leaves

someone else has a room in the attic
i don't know him so well

the things he says
they hurt me

make me reach for those bottles on the floor
because that's the only way

when my words are so muffled that
even i can't hear them

when i'm paralyzed with the weight
and the effort of movement

then i stop caring and
i can finally sleep

there are pills on the ground
are they mine

they must be
no one else lives here