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
Copyright © Amber Smith | Year Posted 2024
|