Sometimes it's like no time has passed since she showed up in my life.
To imagine that I would fall victim to her mesmerizing spell...Again.
To think I was convinced she would be the answer to all of my problems.
To think I fooled myself into thinking I could handle her storm, not to lose control.
How could I have been so blind?
A wolf in sheep's clothing.
My Siren in the form of a drug, a foil, a needle.
Everything I loved and everything I hate.
Such an easy mistake.
An easy escape.
A  cowards answer.
Again I fell victim to her double edged sword.
Left to pick up and rebuild from the ruble, left after her storm.

she paces down the dimly-lit corridor of a modern day ***** den
in a corner apartment, situated on the intersection
of **** carpet and depraved junkies
she knows she was raised better.
guided over heaping masses of humans
cigarette butts
and the burnt carpeting they create
she knows it's only getting worse.
her hands are clenched in tight fists
awaiting the moment
when she can finally loosen up
she knows her father loves her.
her fingers run along the wall
awaiting for a familiar feeling
something to remind her of something she loves
she knows these walls are nothing like her bedroom.
she and he sit down before a snowy television
he reveals a plastic syringe
beneath flickering florescent lights
she knows it's late.
he flicks his lighter and burns the needle
to sanitize it
leaving a layer of burnt black butane
she knows it's still *****.
laying down, a the warmed needle is placed on her arm
she ties her little league shirt tightly
around her forearm
she knows her father wouldn't be pleased.
after leaning back
she's reminded of her last flu
by the initial feeling
**she knows nothing now.

Lithium, light they write,
Like it’s right, white delight
Striking bright, better tight:
Fine and dandy.

Glamourised in our eyes
The surprise as you rise
****** heroised,
Bitter candy.

Pump the ***, dump the dot
******* it hot, spatter spot
Sing a lot, dream but not
Craving luncheon.

Skagging sweet sweaty meat
Blisters well under heat
Take a seat, come compete,
Beating truncheon.

Vie d’artiste, or at least
Rising yeast, bubbling beast
Trickling triste down your cheeks,
Ever daring.

Rising up, sup the cup,
Acid drop, fizzle pop,
Shoobie-doo-doobie-***,
Death to caring.

I'm tripping off the walls again
Needle breaking through the skin
There is poison running through
My veins...
Turning me into another tragedy
I think I'm addicted...
I think I need another hit..
I'm falling through the cracks again
The walls are spinning round again
I think my have hit the end....
I think I need another hit..
The poison burns in my veins
I think I may have overdosed...
I think you're my ******...
I'm tripping off the walls again...

that point inside
your veins
that rips you from
your mind
the one that takes
your soul

it leaves nothing
for you
it takes what it can making
you feel
that without it
you’re not real

it’s drowned
you out
for more than five years
it took away all
your fear
but it’s left you with
nothing more to bear
than a deep hole
inside your arm
that you can only see
with empty brown eyes

I can only say I’ve tried
more than a few times
to help you get it off your mind
but now now you’re only
crushing up more lines

with more lines comes
more tracks
which ends up with
less life and less tact

1.) I'm tired of lighting cigarettes and joints when I really just want to light my insides on fire.
2.) I'm tired of kissing boring girls and boring boys in hopes of feeling something other than this eternal silence inside of me.
3.) I'm tired of drinking 20 cups of black coffee hoping the caffeine will stop my heart.
4.) I'm tired of taking blue pills, snorting white lines, shots of ***** and **** rips to hold me over for a couple hours.
5.) I'm really ******* tired of shaking between highs, head between my knees, heart pounding, breaking into a cold sweat.

I'm tired of being an addict.