Friday, January 23, 2009

Addict.

How many times must I dream of escaping.
Some self locked prison, where the meth threw the keys away
Off into some ocean, I'd never find.
Never find an exit, of this hell I've created
I was outnumbered, by a crystal army
Of lust, happiness, and bliss.
They shot me down. Every last grain.
Every inhalation another blow
To my brain.

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