The spoon in my room

I keep my spoon hidden in a room where I sleep, I’m a monster in hiding, a wolf among sheep. The needle she calls me at all hours of the night, to come do her biding. See It’s her I can’t fight. She tells me she’s sorry for the pain she inflicts, her kiss of addiction is what’s keeping me sick. A fist full of medicine, a heart full of pain, spoon full of fantasy I shove in my veins. Lost hope of my family, they see I’m a slave, a soul that’s been traded for a life they can’t save. A painful reminder these scars on my arms, The map to my prison that’s done so much harm. Tied off and tied up, searching for bliss, a second reminder like the pain of a miss. Quiet desperation the loss of my dreams, The fact only a junkie could know what I mean. In my mind sometimes I go back to my room, Where I traded my life for what’s in the spoon