Afraid to sleep because I’m haunted by her ghost. Afraid to stay awake cause she is not here anymore. So I try to strike a balance between being asleep and being awake and it’s called ‘anti-depressants’. I would rather be awake and feel nothing than face the fact that I lost the love of my life. See, when she died, my heart lost the ability to stand so I sit in my chair and sniff.., and puff.., and inject.., and swallow the only form of peace this world can give me. My church disowned me for being a ‘drag addict’ but they don’t get. I’m not addicted to the drug, I’m addicted to the peace. I would rather bout the police than accept help from people that don’t get it. I can’t pretend I’m okay anymore so I’m here to tell the world I’m a crack-head. I’m hard-hit!life’s share of being mean? I’ve had it. hope? I baged it. I’m dead meat, I admit.. that I’ve lost a grip but.. I have an answer in the form of trip..to a world of euphoria, where I don’t see her ghost or feel her absence.