Take my arm, but not to hold, for a story is to be told, of anger hate and love and peace, of mind of soul of the inner beast, yet to my arm this story starts, though vague parallel to my heart, follow the lines and do not stray, they shall guide you in what I say, first to the arm one will not see, any marks of pain or needles be, and to my nose no one shall find, a bloody mess from any lines, no tabs no pills no glass no ice, ever did to me entice, yet I still shake and sweat indeed, and give my blood to let it feed, I would give my body to the night, I would sacrifice my own sight, I would beg and scream and cry, I would pray or curse the sky, I would take the punch or kicks, all in favor of just one more fix, of a time where without one doubt, I knew I could not live without, a time when happiness could not die, a time that destroys any other high, those who do know me may tend to think, that my drug is called a drink, or involves a whip and chains, that I'd use on many dames, one may also think my drugs a girl, who I would have gave the world, who I struggle to let go, and let her drift from heart and soul, but nix I know they'd be found wrong, for all these things I do not long, it is the feeling that I crave, not by the kisses that she gave, but by the knowledge that I had, that nothing again could be that bad, that I was safe from any pain, though now I feel it when I hear her name, she could not give me my hit, for she does not even deserve my spit, I crave the drug that made me feel, that made me smile and made me kneel, to thank the being that could make it so, that made all the pain within me go, and disappear into the night, where it would never again see light, that moments gone and so it returns, into my mind from whence it burned, and I shall feel as if I died, until the moment it again resides, in my brain and in my heart, which brings me back to this stories start, look not my arms you will not see, look not my nose no blood there be, from no lines or glass or pills or ice, my addiction costs a higher price, I am a slave, an addict I be, even though it can't be seen, unless you can see me when I�m alone, and this thought invades my bones, it is then you'd see what I�ve become, an addict, a slave, because this drug I have none.
1:21 a.m. - 2004-10-11
Recent entries:
An Athiests Prayer - 2010-11-22
An apple on a tree - 2010-11-07
At work and bored. - 2010-02-08
Faces - 2009-10-17
Time for a rebirth - 2009-10-16
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