It's not even been a day, not yet.
Feels like centuries.
My hands shake anyway.
Got to get that hit.
Just a little.
Not much, I promise.
Clouds my judgement:
Focussed on what it feels like to be satisfied.
Leave me intoxicated
From the last thing that was said.
Leave me devastated
Coming back down
Back to reality.
But then there's that flicker of hope
For the next time.
When I can soar overhead again.
It doesn't take much,
Just the right combination of things.
But the main one....
Because you're my addiction,
My own brand of heroin.
And I don't want to break free.
You know who you are, and you know that I mean it.