I'm addicted to the poison, I'm reliant on the toxins.
I feel the way it holds me down, pushes my will, only hanging by a thread.
I feel the doubts creeping into my mind, saying, "You'll never make it. You'll never survive."
Truth or not, I continue to go on.
I keep trying when the days seem so long, so hard- pushing at my nerves.
Pressing on my heart that lays heavy- like a ton of bricks.
Part of me wants to keep pushing, but the part that longs to be free- longs to kiss and dance and twirl alone, seems to come to the surface even though I weigh her down.
Trying to suck the life out of her.
She keeps knocking on my door, reminding me that I'm not happy here- in this poison world- and I haven't been for years.
But the poison part of me slams the door in her bright smiling face and reminds me of the high I so heavily desire, even when the high isn't what it used to be.