I lasso my spirits and pull them up,
out of the abyss from where they fell.
I sink to the bottom of the bottle,
finding no salvation from this personal hell.
Acid rises and doesn’t cease,
I gasp for air,
as one pill makes me decrease.
I take two and now it’s a habit,
now I take six but I’m no longer sane,
is it Alice or the white rabbit?
Who takes me out of this distorted reality?
Perhaps the Cheshire cat knows,
while the mad hatter waits for me.
Behind the looking glass,
the March hare fixes tea,
and door mouse tells me it’s world class.
In wonderland, I pray I’ll stay,
before I’m once again led astray.