I can feel it in my
body, I can feel
it pulsing down
my
vertebrae in my
spine, and
in the
blood in
my veins.
I can feel it
slithering
on
the top layer of my melanin lacking skin.
Oh
I can feel the
craving
More. More. More, at first
I thought
it was
just a little bit
more, a tiny
craving.
But
it's more than that, because
every
fucking
time
it's just 'a little more',
every time it's the
addiction.
Hidden behind covers to
hide the sun
when you first
wake up, the constant
ignorant 'wanting' telling
you that
you
only need a
little more sleep.
You only need
one more puff.
You only need another
swig of the
liquid gunshot
in the disguise of my lips.
"It won't hurt" says the little lying bitch who calls himself addiction.