we're all addicted to secret killers wether it be cigarettes you stole from your mothers purse or alcohol you found it the garage or that boy who swore would never leave you, maybe those anti depressants at the bottom of your backpack or the razor blades you hide between the pages of your books. but baby the cigarettes will burn away the boy will leave even after promising he wouldn't, and sooner or later we all find our way to the bottom of the bottle and my dear the only happiness that will never die away is the kind you give yourself.