I am a drug addict
Or is it “you are a drug addict”
A cancer or virus with a cure so I’m told
But that said I am at this point only an affliction
Like that white ash at the end of your cigarette
Aesthetically present and more frail than your breath
Blown to sunder maybe already and unable to tell
I’m the pain in my wrist at the slightest maneuver
And that dry broken twig snapping in my brain
I’m a sound of pressed affected death splitting
Into two equal useless replicants
Of that spasm I can’t control
I drone on and am seen
And am aware and I hate it
I run out of ideas in the middle of trying
And wear the results on my sleeve
I am a metaphor for bad poetry
And a thousand shitty similes
And I want to glorify
Attract and romanticize
Thanks to the other half of my deception
The drones of other persons in this haze
At least I hope they see and don’t hate me
Don’t shun or resent me
To keep up would be pitiful
I’ve called out for help and they shackled me
Time will grace my humanness
And bring it all someday back to me
To where I don’t have to be hated
But hold your praise
As I can’t help but question it
I’m too many needy fantasies
Wanting eager, raw, animalistically
I hold deception in my hand
Every time I masturbate
And put something on my mind
That I judge I can’t get while I hide
Hoping its more the times than just how I am
‘cause if that can change I can breath you see
I don’t shake as much or grind my teeth
Like when you smoke your herb comfortably
After poising your nerves, your soul, chemically