The relapse.

What the fuck, why did I do that?

An impulse that came from nowhere, people must think I’m a fucking doormat.

I act proud for the gram, act happy that I’m doing great, but you ain’t got not clue because every corner I turn I’m just that slice of bait.

I finally got what I wanted, I moved across the pond, I don’t know why I moved here but it sure as fuck wasn’t for this chemical bond.

I look back to figure out where it all went wrong, think less of a poem and more of a damn rap song.

The moment I left college I travelled non stop, the only thing that kept me grounded was working at fractured barbershop.

When the fuck did my life go down the shitter? people used to look up to me but now I’m an addict that needs a fucking baby sitter.

You ever looked in the mirror and seen a different you? I feel like punching the mirror and seeing what other cracks I can fall through.

I’m always thinking bout shit that I just can’t erase. Like A guy I know who’s now stuck in this mother fucking maze. I offered him once and he took the bait, now he’s hooked on ice himself and now it’s myself I gotta hate.

Why does everything that’s good right now get hidden by all the bad shit. A fresh start is impossible when I’m doing what I can to fuck up my permit.

How hard it is to stop when it’s all shiney and still brand new, I’ve dragged others down with me, I want the damage to stay afew.

I’ve been caught up doing wrong and I know its such a shame. I see people using that sentence but I’ll never be ashamed.

You see putting it into rhymes makes people understand, feelings that hide but when outspoken it’s something they struggle to withstand.

It’s hard to share my thoughts, my experience and my situation. Tho someone reading who’s suffering in silence, This could be their one true salvation.

We all got our problems, our own demons to battle too. We all gotta work together without judgement so we can all break through.

I wish I could pick and choose my problems, but that just ain’t the case. Buried in debt, lonely at heart using that substance for a high to embrace.

You see, we’re all fucked up in our own little way. But only when we don’t talk about it, it’s ourselves we betray.

Secrets untold only make things worse, because battling your mind alone will cause it all to disperse.

Sometimes I sit and I feel like I’m fine, “I’m not an addict” I repeat . A lie which is ticking land mine.