This sickness grows like a cancer,
Spreading quickly through out the host,
Leaving nothing but despair and tragedy,
All to which I am familiar,
The disease lingers even when you think it's gone,
And for me that is a safety blanket,
Feeling that pressure,
The constant need to feel that which no one can give to me,
Only I can give it.
Yet I keep it away like a wild fire in the dry summer air,
This feeling...this sensation comes with a price,
Each scar,
Each burn,
Is a reminder of when that price became too high and I kept going,
When no words would stop me,
No actions would keep me from those seconds of bliss,
When life became too hard and those sweet seconds became my reason to wake up in the morning; to goto school; to come home to a father who's only agenda when he got home was to drink the pain away; to deal with a mother who came from the depths of hell and would rather use her youngest daughter as a playing piece then get to know her..
Those seconds...those minutes,
Left not only this soul damaged,
But the skin that has protected this body for years left with something that will never go away,
This illness is a killer,
I'm just a few of the lucky ones that got out of dodge fast enough before it could make the final move.
