Slowly

Some nights it's easier
to fight
the habit
to light
up
when all that's left
are ashtrays
full of filters.

Some days it's harder
to drink
the bottle;
to fall
down
when all that stands
are walls
full of wicked whispers.

There will be a moment
to take control
when nothing lasts
longer than the previous high;
chasing that fucking Dragon
night after day.

There will come a time
to make peace
when everything vanishes
quicker than a delusion;
dying on the fucking floor
bound and gagged.