Dear, once loving care giver.
At once being a breathing living human being of which had a caring blood running heart. Now just a place for cold, hatred moods to roam wild to flow freely among your body. Wait, rewind just a bit. It was yours to once control.
You are nothing but, a show by a puppeteer. Yet it isn't a person controlling your strings but the drugs. Drowning in its vigorous strength to keep you strung out and just so satisfied. For that brief moment it cradled you it snapped you into the mouse trap of addiction.
The toll it has taken upon you is now far past my digression. Its unbearable to even take but a tiny glance at you. I see anger and disparity in your eyes. Help is screaming so loud of the bars of imprisonment that lock away your voice.
Yet you cant see anyone but the drugs. It is on over drive and you are the only one who can shift.
I wish you could let it go...
Just
Let
Go....
YOU ARE READING
Addiction
Short StoryPeople can only get better if they are willing to admit they have a problem.