I know it's wrong to love the wicked
but when you lit that cigarette,
memories of poison lingered in my nostrils.
My poison was stripped away from me,
when I realized that,
although smoking and drinking masked my negligence,
I was never a friend to you.
And I miss the days where the ones I loved,
the ones I called my friends,
would venture with me.
I spent the last five months of my life
with a lack of sobriety and compassion.
And I adored the addiction.
Now that things are settling back to the way
they were in the summertime,
I have become restless.
For you cannot resist the fuel of a wild heart.
They will crave and crave the things that are wrong for them.
So maybe that's why I ended it.
Because I kept running away from you.
From my responsibilities and
as it festered in the dirt,
I grew daisies out of my cold corpse.
For I felt alive.
Just for a ******* moment, I felt alive again.
So here I am,
lying on the bathroom floor in your arms.
Scared to let you go, reluctant to come back.
Stuck in a purgatory between love and loathing,
desiring the poison I fed myself
to keep me from dying.