It's my version of self medicating that's the worst

I go down hill at full through an almost I finite tunnel of numbness
The melancholy sweeps over me paralyzing me I can't move.
I'm stuck in this rut.

Then the poison is the only way to make me feel alive again.

We all want to feel alive

We want that adrenalin

I'd **** for the rush, while risking myself

Then it happens, it's the all time high,
nothing can be better for a night
and then you're left with your head between your knees on the next train home with the over sized glasses  feeling like you've just survived a plane crash.

But it's my remedy

I become reckless to prove a point to myself
That I can do and be whoever I want

When I look back I call it idiotic and stupid and lie and say its a regret but it's really not

I put the facade of hate towards my actions
But really it was a thrill that is now etched in my veins.

So I slither back into reality until the next problem or coldness hits
and I'm back at square one

It's a fever I can't sweat out
They're becoming my roots
It already has a pattern

It's attempting to form a routine