Addicted

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Real problems, that I face. I am an addict, in an unhealthy place. My heart screams stop poisoning yourself, my addiction takes over and says drugs help. "They make us happy. Can't you see? Who cares what we lose, it's just you and me."

A false sensation of hope,

I feel this when I get high on dope.

It makes me forget every bad thing,

like being trapped in a sex ring.

It lifts my sorrows,

I feel more sane.

This is so wrong,

but it's etched in my brain.

I don't know what to do or how to live,

why is this wrong if it makes me forget.

It lifts me up like nothing else,

when it's gone I feel like I lose myself.

Why is it such a crime if I get high,

I'm not acting out and I do alright.

I deserve peace of mind,

I'd rather swim in this false hope,

than spend life in therapy trying to cope.

It's a easy solution to fix my pain,

it's the life I chose,

I live in vein.


Submitted: January 08, 2019

© Copyright 2021 Lizabeth2k18. All rights reserved.

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