In silent moments...
In silent moments...
Tracks left by dull needles speak to me of my pain.
I beat my spirit down with whips sharpened on secret self abuse
In silent moments I screamed the loudest hoping without faith that someone would know my pain
That an angel would appear and care for me more than I cared for myself
This was a journey through the hell of methamphetamine.
Shadow people became my common companions
Days without sleep brought them into existence on the edge of my consciousness
Until they entered rooms in full colors and clothes and shared their voices with me
This was a journey through the hell of methamphetamine.
Self imposed starvation without pain because this was part of the game
Night followed day, day followed night, over and over until time was a vague memory
This was a journey through the hell of methamphetamine.
In silent moments...
Tracks left by dull needles speak to me of my salvation.
