This sensation is an escapist’s dream.
The absence of one’s worries.
The nonexistence of strife.
The joy born from amnesia.

Although, the path to attaining this peace taints the one who searches for it.
The cold tip of the needle sends a chill throughout my body.
I can fell all of my troubles draining out as happiness surges through my veins.
Other times my relief flies in through my nose.
Sometimes my sanity is wrapped up, all nice and neat.

However, when in this state, better judgement is left for dead.
Then again, it’s not like I know.
Knowledge of happenings while I’m in this state, I have not.
I know only what I’m told when I come to.
“Give it up,” they say.
If only they knew, what they consider addictions are the keys to bliss.