I used to be addicted
until I rehabilitated
now everything is low
compared to the time I spent high
but whatever brings you up
always crashes down hard
always leaves scars

the needle marks that were your kisses
sit on my skin as reminders
that you cannot save a person
who is drowning in themselves
and rock bottom is a lot closer than you know
when drugs are involved

every time I close my eyes
I picture your pulsing veins
your overly exposed pupils
they stare at my soul
if you ever left where you hide
maybe your shaky hands
and your cigarette stained mouth
could find comfort in living
outside the hell hole called the Harvies