incriminating thoughts fill this head,
i’m tired of wishing i was dead.
years and years, this has been the norm…
now i’m insisting on a new form.
trying on my own with no success,
i came to you, wanting a new process.
trading in the meth,
before it commits me to death,
learning to live sober once again,
will teach me who is my real friend.
constantly searching for a lover to please,
has left me living with a maddening disease.
never feeling like i will be good enough,
is a lie, filling the air like fluff.
sex is an addiction, one many don’t name,
and for being addicted, i’ll take all the blame.
no drug is better than that of lust,
only it is one that you cannot trust.
for once again, just like any high,
you have to come down, and that is life.
an empty roller coaster, full of twists and turns,
kinda like a witch and her evil urn.
up and down, and round and round,
always hoping my feet never hit the ground,
i move through this life with good intentions,
and somehow i am always the one listening.
but who is there for me,
when i end up on my knees,
holding the gun with one hand,
and wiping the tears with the other…
i’m not showing my strength,
that was ever so carefully placed,
on the fact that my heart was broken,
and the walls rebuilt…
since instead of filling me with love,
you poured onto me much guilt.
it follows me like a shadow,
and covers me like a quilt.
smothering me with undying pressure,
i need to learn to release it with pleasure.
instead of burying it in agonizing pain,
it needs to be released…
like a cloud pouring its rain.