Crystal; numb, she's everything to me. She makes me forget of the multiple abhor days; counted.
Addicted; who knows? Possible, but Inconsequential.
Without it, life's meaning is gone, dematerialized.
With it, hell becomes heaven, as for I become contented, at ease.
Medicine to I. Analgesic? Better than.
Consumed through the opening of mouth, let out by exhale. Effects stay lingering inside.
Treatment for desolation. A dose of cure.
Reliever, my healing remedy. My therapy that sings melodies to my ears throughout the day.
Drugs are bad, it's been known. Maybe it's because they make you escape from the truth, into your own world. Perhaps they don't want you to, they rather see you suffer in shame and neglect till you've had enough.
Drugs are good; I say. They change you physically, and mentally. They make you happy. Like me.
I'm
Happy
Drugs
Make
Me
Happy
I yell, no one listens. I've found a therapeutic healing process.
No classes needed, no talks, no shares, no other; you, and only you.
Drugs.
Insanely mad.
YOU ARE READING
Harry Styles
Fiksi PenggemarThey think they know you for who you are, but if only they knew that's who you aren't. They only know the told, not the untold. They only see what's in front of the curtain, not the back. They only see you from a glance but don't distinguish the one...
