The body
will always
betray
the tongue

Though I will
always fight
against my war
at one point
I know
standing down
will be
the right choice

Popped two xans
Nicotine coursing through
my veins
kerosene flooding
my mind
yet if they knew
I'll be labeled as an addict
but in truth
who isn't addicted to
even a glimpse
of happiness
even if it's temporal

At times
these substances
gives sobriety;
a realistic picture
compared
to everything else

Being able to reason
with yourself
is the most painful thing ever
as you are
standing against
a brewing storm
of yourself
on your own.

Things are not flying
as smoothly as it used to
the sky seems to fall
wherever I march
the poems I write
are war cries
as I get up once more
as I jump into the fray
once again