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.