It's been too long, the old voice says,
And I nod because it's right.
I rush to my room and lock the door,
I don't even put up a fight.
I'm shaking and my head hurts and
My hands are cold as ice,
So I reach straight for my best friend
And quickly begin to slice.
Addiction, I can't help but think,
Is such a funny thing.
Even now, as I surrender to
The satisfying sting.
I pledged to always be drug free
That one day in first grade.
But that was many, many years
Before I found the blade.
Huh. Was there even a time before
The voice invaded my head?
Before my life was metallic tears
And my favorite color was red?
It could be worse, the old voice says
As I move the blade to my calf,
You could be addicted to actual drugs.
And I can't help but laugh.
I don't need meth or heroin,
No acid or cocaine.
No pills or booze or cigarettes;
My drug of choice is pain.
YOU ARE READING
Red Addiction
Poetry"What's it like to live with a self harm addiction?" I hope you never find out. ************************** TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!! ************************** Note: All poems, oneshots, quotes, etc. are mine unless stated otherwise. If you take anythin...
