Loop
our pockets are empty, you don’t remember your last meal.
At least you can still taste the liquor on your lips, you feel ill.
Your hands are shaking, too much nicotine in your system.
Once again you find yourself looking for some more money.
The last time you checked your stash it was gone, you took it all.
You need one more pill but even better if you can get stacks of bars.
Being clean is not worth it, you tell yourself, too unbearable to deal with.
The withdrawal symptoms are enough to mKs you feel near death.
But what you want is to find a way to escape reality even briefly.
Your thoughts are too drastic, not to mention the voices in your head.
They won’t settle down until they get what they want, no matter the price.
You find yourself risking your safety to get that chemical relief.
Now you have them, and you don’t remember the cost, nor your dignity.
You can barely open your eyes but you still feel smart enough for getting them.
Even clever, for not getting caught, because your pockets are now full.
Full of stuff you don’t even remember stealing from people or stores.
You barely can stand straight with slurring words that you’ll regret.
But let’s talk about honesty, you won’t even recall spilling your secrets.
You’ll find yourself in your bed or the middle of a park, smelling like smoke.
And you tell yourself that this is going to be the last time, but little did you know.
You are doomed to repeat the identical cycle because you don’t want any help.
