untitled

The smell of the flower lingers
and the smell is not fresh
only the by-product remains
and that potion is inserted into my flesh

I killed the flower
and I camouflage myself as one
seconds before I was sick, weak
Now I'm the strong one

Oh, but the dope, the rocks, the needles
The Need
I run on drugs like fuel
Like a cow runs on feed

Self-esteem lower than Hell itself
sexual acts forced upon me
I endured, turned to drugs
and felt like I was heard

if I hurt,
it covers the pain
When the dam breaks
it wipes the tears away

introverted to a ridiculous degree
unless, of course, there's a drug in me