Why do i write about drugs so much?
Is it because the addicts are my type of people?
I'm addicted to their homely touch.
I forget death is their sequel.
Limitations on my lungs,
and imitations in my eyes.
speaking on tongues on my body,
and soaring through the skies.
That's how they describe it,
and i love hearing their conflict;
with the one thing they love most
the only thing they're running from is the next overdose.
or the next craving.
Her first intake at the club; they were raving.
although he got out
she's stuck relying on hopeless doubt.
selling herself for a hit;
afraid she will have to go without it.
see, I'm not addicted to their addiction.
I'm addicted to their affliction.
their broken souls that needed love,
and the broken society that gave them a shove.