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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
the dopamine well has run dry

Submitted: March 26, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 26, 2017



Pleasure walks hand in hand with pain,

They come together like storm clouds and rain.

I’m a relatively simple man, driven by simplistic things,

Searching for the next high, that’s what I’m about.

Shouldn’t be a mystery why I’m always in pain,

All the pleasure chasing catches up eventually.

Neurons in my brain are all out of dopamine,

And the Serotonin man cut off my supply.

My moods falling faster now,

I’m in need of a pick me up.


Never satisfied with what I have,

I’m always looking for something more.

More clothes, more cars, more games,

More food, more drugs, more money.

Maybe money can’t buy happiness,

But I’d rather cry myself to sleep in a mansion.

Too much money makes me nervous, though,

And when I’m feeling, it’s time break out the debit card.

Blowing my money on shit that I don’t need,

Just so I can turn around, and complain about being broke.


Don’t ever give me anything, cause I tend to

Get addicted to everything that I touch.

Neurons are all burnt out from excessive indulgence,

Tolerance is high as fuck, I need more, I need a little more.

If I don’t get a little bit more, I’m gonna go insane,

How else am I supposed to make it through my day?

Most would reach for a cup of coffee to start their day,

I’d rather reach for a pack of cigarettes.

It’s bad but I don’t really care,

Nicotine’s the only thing that I have ever loved.

I cut my bank account open, and watch it bleed out,

The more intense my love gets, the deeper I drive the knife.


Pain is the clouds that never leave the Seattle sky,

And pleasure is the sun that breaks through, for a little bit.

In the blink of an eye, what little dopamine left is gone,

And I’m stranded on the side of the road, with nowhere to go.

Probably wasn’t smart to go out on E, but I’m still so desperate.

All the feeling is sucked out of my body,

Until I’m left unable feel anything at all.

I turn to my vices, but none of them are working for me.

This happens every time, everyone knows that,

Hell, even I know that.

History is destined to repeat itself, if you don’t learn from it,

Just being self aware isn’t enough,

I’m trapped in a cycle that never ever ends.


Chased after pleasure like my life depended on it,

And now the pain has fully set in.

Neurons barely fire off anymore,

My tolerance is so damn high, next time will kill me.

The dopamine and serotonin tanks have dried up,

Worse than California during a drought.

My moods falling faster and faster now,

I turn to all of my vices, but nothing

Seems to be working for me, now.


Pleasure walks hand in hand with pain,

They come together like the storm clouds and the rain.

In the blink of an eye, the pleasure came and went,

My mood is falling faster, now,

And the pain has fully set in.

© Copyright 2018 Melancholic Wisdom. All rights reserved.

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