It takes the obvious things like happiness a career,the trust they had in you and the hopes you had for yourself .

Then the girl and in time several girls all of whom tried to live with your madness.

Then you crash the car, lose the house and end up hiding from the world in cheap multi unit apartment building.
And you never answer the door or the telephone unless it's your guy calling to bring you more.

Less light and more fire.
Everything looks less depressing by candle light.
The AC broke down a year ago.
Open windows keep the air free from anxiety.

Your loved ones become bitter at the thought of you while your friends , the real ones now act as if those memories you shared and those fights you fought were all just in passing.
The friendship is no longer there.

Sunshine and social settings are two things
you do all you can to avoid.

Cops know you by your name and street people now call you 'Brother' even though you have a home.

Somewhere in those years your *** life had died and no one ever bothered inviting you to the funeral.
You know it's the Devil when it causes you to forget about having something you spent years lusting over and partaking in at every given chance with just about any given girl .  

The poppy I speak of only with respect.
The Dragon and the chasing has almost ran its course.
The lazy Monkey and my aching spine.
The Fentanyl and the Suboxone.
The crying jail cell walls and the ***** on the floor.
The scars and the death of another .
The years all wasted and the girl who no longer thinks of you .

It took all I had I have nothing left to give.