Hotline
1 He sits on his counter, Advil in hand
(8 he hopes it will kill him;
0 he hopes they'll understand...
0) he swallows what he's holding,
2 and hopes the lights will dim,
7 there's too much he can't endure
3 at least that's what he says -
8 what he means is that it hurts,
2 and his life is too much stress,
5 he tries to fix it all;
5 the number in his phone can't fix what he's just done,
1 (800) 273 - 8255
only works if you hit call.
This poem is about:
Me