White rabbit, white rabbit takes me to my new habit. I will follow you into the well, where unbeknownst to me, I'll build my own hell.
Everyone assumes I'm doing well but to be honest nobody knows how hard I fell. I've been falling so fast down this rabbit hole, it seems I must've lost my soul.
White rabbit, why is it so hard to kick this habit? I feel like a bird trapped in a cage, my entire life destroyed by my rage.
I want to spread my wings and be free, but I feel like the ****** life was made for me. Feeling like I can never let go of the syringe, so with my logic I'll begin to binge.
It's not like I ever get to see my kids for more than a day; all they ever wanted was for mama to stay so who cares if I die this way?
Covered in scabs and picks everyone's stares hurt more than bricks. Trust me that **** sticks, everything does when you're living for the buzz.
I remember seeing blood all over the floor and the EMT's kicking down the door. They didn't seem to have a single care; it said it all in their blank stare.
I was nothing more than a drugged-up ***** lying there overdosed on the floor. I begged God saying I don't want to live anymore, but that's the thing about being an addict you always have to have it.
I'm so worried the next time they kick in the door; it'll be nothing more than my lifeless body overdosed on the floor.
Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 5:21 PM UTC
White rabbit, white rabbit takes me to my new habit. I will follow you into the well, where unbeknownst to me, I'll build my own hell.
Everyone assumes I'm doing well but to be honest nobody knows how hard I fell. I've been falling so fast down this rabbit hole, it seems I must've lost my soul.
White rabbit, why is it so hard to kick this habit? I feel like a bird trapped in a cage, my entire life destroyed by my rage.
I want to spread my wings and be free, but I feel like the ****** life was made for me. Feeling like I can never let go of the syringe, so with my logic I'll begin to binge.
It's not like I ever get to see my kids for more than a day; all they ever wanted was for mama to stay so who cares if I die this way?
Covered in scabs and picks everyone's stares hurt more than bricks. Trust me that **** sticks, everything does when you're living for the buzz.
I remember seeing blood all over the floor and the EMT's kicking down the door. They didn't seem to have a single care; it said it all in their blank stare.
I was nothing more than a drugged-up ***** lying there overdosed on the floor. I begged God saying I don't want to live anymore, but that's the thing about being an addict you always have to have it.
I'm so worried the next time they kick in the door; it'll be nothing more than my lifeless body overdosed on the floor.
July 2, 2019. Written while incarcerated.
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