I always claimed that I was a loaded gun,
though I never thought that I would use it,
but the screams running through my blood,
gave me justice in releasing the sinister bullet...
I should have just said no, and walked away,
instead I woke up, after not having slept at all,
swallowing the sour acid within my sick stomach,
and reaching for the trigger, I pulled in my fall...
A single emotion taking over your empty being,
spreading like a disease throughout your brain,
soon creating thirst for metal against the skin,
and that is how the blade barely graced my vein...
I felt it creep within me, for I was lone and crazed,
I never wanted to skate on this thin, cold ice,
but I was dazed, confused, and a bit suicidal,
so I gave into the lure of the alternative vice...
Becoming that trigger on that tricky, loaded gun,
falling with the ashes, a blackend sun, and such,
Those dirty little addictions feeding your body,
will only black your heart if you let it self-destruct...
I wish not for time to reverse, yet I wish I was free,
I hope I never fall back into this abyss I did once create,
the day I become free of this grotesque withdrawal,
is the day I am freed from the dependency I do hate.