Ok so this one not finished. I am actually just looking through old poems that i haven't published and am just finishing them.

In your lonelyness you hide,
From the life you made into hell,
And on this bitter emotion you ride,
Like faster then light, faster then you can tell,
Until all that is left,
Is the damage in your own soul.

You drink, and drink until the skin sheds,
And people ask would you perfer to be dead?
You say," why yes"
Its the same old story,
A fight with out shame and its still so gory.