Little white lies,
Turned into little white lines.
You start with a thousand,
Until it's a hundred,
Then it's just a dollar.
You start with fat rocks,
And then you're scraping for dust.
10PM turns into 10AM.
Time simply doesn't exist,
In coked out bliss.
Allnighters,
Turn into one week benders.
Does it ever stop?
Only when the coke's gone.
Except,
It's never gone.
It's always a call away,
Around the corner.
No matter how fast I run,
No matter how much I hide,
It always finds me.
YOU ARE READING
The Intimacy Of Being Understood
PoezieAn intimate look into the darkest depths of my life. These poems are the embodiment of trials and tribulations of growing up in today's society. I hope these stories bring hope to those who have lived through similar situations and tragedies. Always...
