I drink and smoke a lot but hard drugs is where I draw the line.

I envy the cigarettes that kiss you goodnight,
And the fine white lines that make you feel alright.
I’m jealous of the whiskey that brings warmth to your skin,
And of your one off companions; tangled limbs in linens.
You tell me you’re prisoner to your fire within,
that you’re being tortured alive from your self inflicted sin.
You’re broken and bruised and turn to your vices
and build up a shelter in your self made crisis
And tell me it’s better that I walk away...
But my drug is you... and I have to stay.

I beg the stars
To keep you behind bars.
I never thought you'd take it that far;
Now it's plain to see:
Jail is the only guarantee
That your children will be free
From your vapid disease

You have absolutely no idea how much you set my soul on fire

A house that’s just a little bit too clean
beds that are always made
several empty bottles of beer and wine
walls that appear to trap anyone who comes near.

A mother sitting upright, wide awake at 4 in the morning
an anxious dog who paces in the kitchen all night
a weary father who feels older than he should
     and just wants to rest.
Several phones nearby just in case.

The youngest upstairs hiding in her room
        unable to understand.
The eldest moved away
    focusing her thoughts on anything else.
Empty pill bottles strewn around the house
     like christmas lights.
Air so thick breathing almost becomes impossible.

The middle child gone
    maybe in jail
    or the hospital
    or perfectly fine.

Kisses the needles left seen visibly on her arms.
Something eating away at her mind and her soul.

Empty promises of a better future
    swirl in circles with the ******
        in her black and blue veins.

What did you do to me.
You are like a drug to me.
I crave you so hard when you are not around.
I want more when I have enough.
Tell me what you did.

I keep saying that I’m going to stop using.
I’ve told my therapist and my friends,
but I start to get overwhelmed
and feel the need to relapse.

I make it one,
maybe two days,
before I’m chasing the high,
and ruining my life.

The longest I’ve lasted
was 25 hellish days.
But even after confessing,
I came back to my vice

for my addiction, i'd run a thousand miles
my addiction was very versatile;
sometimes found in a vial,
most of the times, juvenial
ALWAYS considered a lifestyle

I’m an addict
It’s obvious

It’s in the way I drink
Desperately pouring into my gut
To finally let a smile grace my lips
To mask my constant pain

It’s in the things I do at night
Phone in one hand
The other reaching down
Endlessly searching for another wave
Just one more moment of bliss
Before I go back to reality

It’s in the way I swallow my pills
Trying to will them to be stronger
Begging each extra tablet
To be just a little too much

It’s in the emptiness of my soul
The numbness of my heart
The agony in my head
And the recklessness of my spirit
I know it’s inside me
A few years and you’ll see
It’ll be quite obvious
I’m an addict