Rather than dealing with drugs,
Dealing with the pain and change,
We are dealing with our own words.
We exchange them so secretly,
Like a drug dealer and his client,
Hoping for not one word repeated.
We smoke away the worries
Of somebody finding out about us.
In the back of our mind,
That scare is still relevant.
My body aches for more,
But the fear inside of me-
It may be just a little much to cope with.
Would I rather be in trouble
Or whispering into your ear again,
Begging for your last dose?