He's like a drug. And I can't quit him.I'm dying to have him, tense and anxious until I get my hands on the next fix. Smoke it, snort it, shoot it into my veins any means necessary. I just have to have it. I need it.
Try and quit cold turkey, but you always end up back where you started. Push it out of memory until you consume your life with other means, only hurting yourself when you're left staggering back for more. Think you've done it this time. You've learned to let it go and move on. You're free of the addiction. Lies. They're only fibs to yourself, to others. What you may think or fully believe is the end of pain results in you coming full circle, knowledge of never quitting. Thought it was a phase. Maybe it was timing, seasonal. Or the surrounding crowd. Whatever is assumed, you were wrong. Wrong to think you can stop.
The wounds won't heal. And the bruises continue to fill with busted blood every time the drug fills your body. Every inhale stings harsher and stronger. It hurts, but you know it feels good. You know it's wrong, bad enough, but no means of stopping.
The pain lingers. Your lungs fill with the heaviness of regret and shame, of wishful thinking things could just be different. A different situation or different timing. You're hooked. Finished of any escape. Don't try to back away anymore. Just.Give.In.
Try, try again to run away. Extinguish the flame. Fan the smoke from your mind. A wasted effort and desire in the end. Because you love the chase. You love the unrequited love. The harmful taste of addiction and what it means to possess such a danger. You'd even lick your fingers dry for a twinge of the drug's satisfaction. Your stomach churns over this thought, but it's still true. Always thinking, "this is the last time" or, "I can do and be better than this." So, why's the addiction so difficult to kick to the curb? Why's it hurt just as deep when you try to come up for air?
Because the drug has broken you. The drug claws at your lungs, your blood, your mind and even heart. Let it in just once and you're sealed with the kiss of failure. The high you're used to comes rushing back through even a whiff of memory. It's a calm. A bad calm. Because this drug pulls you deeper than any other drug. And in turn, you love the pain. Unconsciously, you yearn for the pain of never quitting.
Acceptance. Learn to live with it. Pain. Unmoving. Stationary. Give up. Heartache. Unhealthy. Search for any better and more logical reason than these. Search yet never find. Is living with the addiction better than continuously trying to rid yourself of it? Let the resin continue to burn through your lungs and mouth and thick skin? Seep into your utmost soul? It's not easy to live with, but...you can't quit. You won't quit. You'd rather live with the consequences than lose it forever.
And that, just satisfies you thinking of the next fix. A fix and a hit you can't quit.
