Needing the High
I know I'm in trouble
because I've gone way too long
without the drug.
It's twisted itself into my soul
wound it's way around
now it's taking its toll,
squeezing me like a viper.
Fear is setting in,
panic and pain
making its way through my veins,
I'm sure this will kill me
steal my soul, drown me,
take everything from me.
The drug,
the drug,
the drug.
It's all I can see,
think about,
feel.
This is way too real.
I'm pretty sure I made the wrong deal.
Told the devil "Here."
and now I'm paying.
What I'd give to see it,
call out to get it.
Look what I've done to myself.
I've beaten and bruised myself
for the drug,
the only drug,
my personal drug
that takes away the pain,
if only for a day
but then brings it back later tenfold.
It might seem like a trap
but it's sweet to taste,
feels like grace,
makes me want to waste
more time
because this high is my crime
and now I'm paying for my crime
and I won't get away
until I've paid in full.
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