You want to talk about addiction?
Pull up a chair and sit next to me.
I’ve just managed all these years to keep the crude corners of my heart together with Pimm’s, Tanqueray and Fernet Branca.
You ask me why I’m chasing the dragon, again.
I’ll tell you why.
I take it because you don’t like me without it.
I ended up finding the drug I like. I ended up finding the drug you like me on.
And so now I’ve overdosed.
Don’t waste my suffering.
The memories I have wrapped up in my head are better than any experience.
You miss me I know.
This is why I’m reaching across to say I am still here.
You have too much hope.
Hope is a lie.
It is a reliance on people.
And we know how that goes.
But you can’t save me.
You tried, and this is the thanks you get.
I stay in the in-between — an area between sanity and insanity.
A 24/7 agony.
Why feed your dreams of you wanting me alive when I can feed mine of dying?
I choose not to care.
You should too.