I haven’t ever really come down, no
I have refused to experience
the crash,
the backlash,
the perhaps last time I will
ever look back-
If only I could commit to
staying on track..
But, you see,
I always avoid running out
and I always make sure
I carry a glass
with me,
nestled so tightly,
I grasp
onto it
as if my life depended on it…
So, this avalanche of a downward spiral
has finally come knocking
on my door
And-
all I can think about now is
how
I
Want
More…
Eventually, I must hit the floor,
on my hands and knees,
searching the fucking carpet,
for maybe,
just one last score-
one last piece of
burnt up chore…
Burnt up
just like all the bridges
I have spent my entire life
building
Whick!
Up in a single flame
with the very next hit
I hate to admit it-
but
What goes up,
must come down
the plummet -
the fall,
after all-
I really, really do like
being up this high.
who would ever want to
come down?
Like a bird in the sky,
I feel nothing but
free…
Now, can someone please
tell me
why and how
the fuck
this has become routine
and why and how
the fuck
did this have to happen
to me