What have I done?
What am I doing?
I never used to live...
this life I am living,
I used to be happy,
I used to care..
but that's far behind me,
its just not fair..
I have to live with myself,
I have to breathe with these lungs,
the same lungs that snort coke,
Yeah, that's my choice of drug.
It took my life away,
its made me a monster,
it made me afraid,
it made me a wanderer,
it made me who I am,
the person I dread,
to be honest right now
I am better off dead.
There's this man that I choose to associate with,
he sells me cocaine, marijuana, and meth.
I hate him, I do,
he's the worst kind of guy,
but he has what I want,
the thing that keeps me satisfied.
I wish I could quit,
Its such gross feeling,
to want to smoke weed,
and then hang from the ceiling.
If there's something to learn from me,
is you can't start this stuff,
because one is too many
and a thousand is never enough.
J.C
