Affixer

I'm doing my best, stepping ever so lightly
To avoid the pin-prick of needles engulfing me whole
But a wrench is wrapped 'round my heart squeezing tightly
Forcing pain to spill out and splash upon my soul


A crimson pool now ripples, colliding with my spirit

I know I must face this hang-over without an elixir

And although there are moments I can barely hear it
I sense a bystander nearby whispering "Fix her"

Time speeds up but I walk aimlessly

Feeling backwards and numb

While the ghostly apparition taunts me shamelessly

I choke on the words "She's done"