I am an addict
I am a mother
I am a daughter
A sister, a friend.

I am an addict
and I live under
The spell addiction sends
right through my bones,
my mind, my heart, my soul

I am an addict
and I have never felt so small
I am an addict
I told myself
As I held my head in shame

I am an addict
and I cannot live with all this pain
I am an addict
I deserve nothing but the worst
I am an addict and
I live under this curse.

Success
I cannot have it (I told myself)
The right to a good life
I am an addict
I’ve caused too much pain and strife.

Content
I cannot have it (I told myself)
I don’t deserve to smile
I am an addict and
I am at the bottom of the pile

I am a survivor
I am a warrior
I am a Queen
But
I had a habit
That dampened all of my dreams

I am a fighter, a writer
I am clever, kind, caring and strong
I am an addict
but under labels I do not belong

I am a women, a human
Who sadly had to break
To be transformed into
The champion she is evolving
into today

I am an addict and
although yes, I do lust
for drink and drugs
I now have a Higher Power
I can trust, who showers
me with strength, guidance and love

I trudged for miles but
with hard work,
The shackles soon fell off
and although yes,
I fell face first
deep into the mud
I wiped my eyes,
squeaky clean and
I truly felt Gods love.

I began to breathe, to believe
in myself, in all my worth
and dare I say it……
I was thankful to still have
two feet firmly on this earth.

I remembered how it feels to live,
to dream, to be free
To feel alive –
and just how beautiful
This universe really is
Through my new fresh eyes.

I am an addict
And I do not wish to forget
For that could do me harm

I will always remember
my loved ones, my friends,
my family
Who lost their battles
In this crazy search for calm
and I hold them here
Firmly within my heart.

They provide me with the fuel
When my internal fire
barely starts
But the ones who keep me
Strong, who really ignite
my light
Are the ones sat amongst us,
The ones who daily fight
to stay sober and clean

We’re not perfect but
We try, the survivors,
the warriors, the ones
fighting to the end
carrying a light for their
lost loved ones and friends

You’re the champions –
In my eyes you are all stars.

And you deserve every bit
of goodness on this earth

Addiction puts blinkers on your
eyes, but recovery removes the curse.

Please understand, it isn’t
easy, it is a daily fight
but with time, care and
a lot of love, I am grateful
to have been given another
chance to try at life.

I am an addict
But I am also a survivor
And freedom tastes so
very, very nice.

They told me I was a drug addict,
and I refused to consider it.
I was scared and I was fearless
and I was
ancient and young
and
I didn't know how
so many things could fit inside of me,
but I knew that they were wrong and they
could never understand.

They told me I was a drug addict
and I thought maybe
they knew what they were talking about,
after all,
and I wanted them to be right because
I wanted them to fix me.

They told me I was a drug addict
and I went to meetings
and collected chips
and spoke in group
and preached recovery.

They told me I was a drug addict
and I agreed until
I got to go home
and even then I kept agreeing
for a while.

They told me I was a drug addict
and I sat in meetings
and got a sponsor
and said all the right things
to my parents.

They told me I was a drug addict
and I got high
because I missed it.

They told me I was a drug addict
and they told my friends
and said I'd try to convince them I was okay,
and when I did,
no one knew who to believe.

They told me I was a drug addict
and that I hadn't changed at all
and even when they said they were sorry,
I knew they weren't,
really.

They told me I was a drug addict
in recovery and that
the worst was behind me.

They told me I was a drug addict
and I never stopped for good
because I guess I was never sure
if I believed them.

They told me I was a drug addict,
but I think I'm doing
okay.

You see, you make me wanna write,
You make wanna write words
So sweet and on the other hand
Words wind up so tight
Until it squeeze you when you feel me
Setting my poetic heart soaring free
Like a bird flying in mid air
But I don't care
As long as I can bring these poetic words to your ears
Leaving with happiness or either in tears.
I am like an addict unashamed
And an addict by deed and name
Over poetry deep, deep, deep in my soul
No matter how deep or how old
Or how it sounds in words so dear
Until it just burns of your ears.
Fire flame to touch
No but yet not too much
Just a little at a time
With somewhere in there with you on my mind
Because I am an addict for poetry.
Poetry by any means you see
If by anything else is messed up,
Like the Crack head on the streets
I need to be fed my "drug" that inner beast.
No not beast but pleasure deeply so
Until I feel and really know
It's that thing call poetry I am addicted to
Yes, it's very, very, very true
I love poetry for I am an addict.
And if poetry was a woman she would be my mistress,
My chick on the side I won't miss,
For I am an addict baby a poetry ******,
Because I need my fix everyday,
And sometimes i a worst way.
My suppliers range many like Langston and Nikki and Maya and even a Butterfly too
Because I am an addict of poetry and this is very true.
Everytime I mix the poetic lyrical measures spinning in my brain,
As I write them down like a person whose going fool and going insane,
For I am an addict baby; a poetic, lyrical, words spinning miser, spitting out words so,
Addict of rhymes
Endless i space and in time
No matter what moves me
No matter what grroves me
I am  what I am what I am so.
Give me a fix and I'll give you a rhyme
Give a little bit of time
And I'll be spitting out poetry as fast as you can say "BLACK BALL"
I love poetry and I am an addict that's all.
If there was an "Poet's Anonymous" I would be in every meeting everytime,
Spinning a rhyme for you in every way I can find.
My name is____and I am a poetic lyrical of rhyme of a poet
I AM A AN ADDICT----
A POETRY ADDICT!


(C) K.C.Colt
All Rights Reserved.

When you think of a drug addict, what do you see?
Someone who’s messed up, depressed, or on the street.
Sadly, there are quite a few of those freaks
They need their daily dosage or their days incomplete.
But what if I told you users aren’t the real drug addict?
It’s the government…. They’re the real drug addicts

But wait isn’t that a little dramatic?
That cant be true! Show me some facts, I demand it!

Alright, alright…. Hold on… if you demand it, here’s some facts then
In 2011 the war on drugs cost 23 billion dollars
But, that’s just the federal budget, you just wait, the states can replicate.
Over 30 billion dollars were put on their plate
That’s 53 billion total, 1716 of every second of every day… isn’t that insane!?

Well yeah, you could say that’s insane, but I’m still not impressed, can you step up your game?

Of course I can do that! I have much more to say!

Okay then, I’m all ears, amaze my brain!

From 1987 to 1995, the corrections budget increased 30% because more and more people were being thrown in the pent
Meanwhile, spending on higher education was on the decent--- 18% to be correct

Ah, that makes sense, but what I don’t get, is how that’s relevant?

Just a sec, I have more to vent
In 2010 21% of those in the pent were in for a drug related offense
And what percent of people do you think had a malicious intent?

Well… I guess you could say slim to none

Right! While educations lacking the proper funds to teach kids what they need to know

Okay, okay, I get what you’re saying now, but I still don’t get why you think the government is the drug addict?
I mean, don’t users spend more on drugs than the government does?
Drugs are expensive, and they take an abundance of money from a users pocket.

Yes, that’s true, they spend more spend more money than the government does
There are 20 million plus who reported using drugs in 2011, they spent around 70 billion dollars to support their love
That’s 3500 dollars spent per user
Meanwhile, just over 7 million people are employed by the gov
You know what that means? Our gov spends 7300 dollars per person employed for the war on drugs.

Wow… I never thought of it like that, those are quite the facts
You know what, that actually makes me mad
Obviously it makes our government a mockery, a living joke of a democracy
I can see why you say the government is a drug addict now
They’re addicted to a war that’s bringing us down
They can’t go a day without spending money on it
And look how successful it has been… pretty prominent their habit is chronic
I even recently heard that more people die from drugs they’re prescribed than drugs that are despised

Yes! I almost forgot that! It’s actually 10 times more people! Isn’t that unbelievable!?

Now, we’re not trying to say we should end the war on drugs
But don’t you think its time the government rethinks their strategy?
Because its obvious the one they have now is a tragedy.

All the public pedestrians on main street
See, a business man walking with
A brief case meant for holding important things
They see me and I know they think, that this man has it goin’ on
His paycheck is more than I’ll ever see
And I bet a perfect life fits easily in that brief case
It’s not the case
Let’s get under the skin with injections
To see that
This man is an addict
I’m addicted to I Miss You

Slowly scratching skin
Gradually getting faster
Like I can wipe away her breath with drugs
Picks scabs off arms like memories
But they bleed and run
Reminding me how worse things get when
I try to help
Try to help the addict, I’m an addict

Look at this syringe and call it her kiss
Punctures skin and inject into veins
All the things that made me better than
What I used to be
What he used to be is when he’s high
And the worlds alright
The worlds alright, for as long as this trip lasts
I’m an addict I’m an addict
I’m addicted to I Miss You

I’m addicted to one thing
Trip LSD then move to ecstasy
Snort ******* and swallow some pills
Because they all lead to one thing
Getting high and remember being with her
Sometimes I can hallucinate so hard
That’s she breathing right next to me
See her moving in a black dress
Holding hands for dancing
1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4
I don’t count or dance anymore because I forgot how
Forgot how her heart beat
This is what I do to see her again
I’m addicted to her voice
I’m addicted I’m addicted to
her name
Could even be a drug
It’s like her first letter is a hit and I breathe
Out the last four letters through smoke

Bongs, pipes, syringes and blunts
Drug paraphernalia turns into vehicles
That all take me to the same place
A small town called Human
Because that’s all I want to be
And there’s a city to the North called Reality
They get mixed up sometimes and it’s tough to find work up there
High is the town I visit the most  
But often times I feel like I don’t belong there
And the big city of Over Dose is just a few miles away
Sometimes you get lost looking for Human and Reality that you end up there
Because the directions on the map aren’t finished
The map maker shot himself when he realized God wasn’t hearing him
God moved to a town called I Miss You
I’m addicted
And the last time I checked his next-door neighbor was you
I really want to go to I Miss You and see you but I haven’t been there yet
So wait for me

I’m done visiting these places
High would be a nice vacation spot but I can’t be there all the time
I swear Over Dose could be enough to **** me
I haven’t found I Miss You yet
And its hard to find a place to live and a job in Reality
So, Ima’ take this last hit and hope I can be
Comfortably human

Loving the addict is
an addiction in itself
Learning to digest
all of the sharp pieces that
come with it
Apologies and how
they lose meaning
after the second
Loving the addict is
as much of an art as
the hiding is, as
the covering up, as
the forgive me
After some time
I love you and I'm sorry
start to sound the same
letting go and withdrawal
become an equal amount of
swollen
and coming back is
more relapse than any
tangible substance
Loving the addict is
a guilty habit growing
inside a dark closet
feeding the plant until
it becomes animal,
ravenous
love and dependence
are both diseases that
share the same root

But being the addict
is always an attempted break up
It is avoidance at
its finest
It is ripping apart
strings of a rope
with chipped fingernails
in attempts to
cut loose ends
It is sawing pieces of
wood with bare skin and
trying not to get a splinter
It is leave me
It is don't go
It is I am trying to not destroy
everything in my path
It is painting with
heavy winds and rain
hoping there wont be
a mess to clean up
But mess is as inevitable
as the art is creating
And love and addiction
mix like oil and water
nobody is perfectly
capable of cleaning
up correctly
So we leave in a pile
to return to later
Coming back is
more relapse than any
tangible substance
that has ever
existed
and mercy is more perilous than
we'd hope it to be