Obsession

We walk in empty rooms.
Returning to the drugs that slowly kill us.
But we love to take them.
We love getting high.
We love it until we run out.
And then we rip ourselves apart.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741