I found this written down in a drawer of mine. I believe I was quite bent, or intoxicated from alcohol and marijuana at the same time, when I wrote this. I'd be interested in thoughts or ways to improve it.

Sometimes it is hard,
work to get this far,
and for what? A
plastic personality, fake family?
Backwards love, distorted
and in overdrive.
Queen bee in the mindhive.
Into the deep I'd like to dive,
to forget all the bullshit and
lose my mind.
Drift into senility, forgetting
the "good" years.
How is that a humane way
to die? Artificial awareness,
happy pills to silence
the sorrow. It's
always there tomorrow.