deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Problem
They told me I had a problem
That I was a substance abuser.
I did everything in my power to convince them other wise.
So what if I liked to get a little high?
Crush, cut, separate into little lines.
Roll up the bill, inhale sharply, feel the powder rush to your brain.
Lose feeling of your pain for just a little while.
Feel nothing but the tingle of the drug flowing through your veins.
I used to swear I would never touch anything but weed.
But I found myself crushing pills, snorting coke, popping molly.
They say I have a problem.
I can no longer disagree, my demons have consumed me.
That I was a substance abuser.
I did everything in my power to convince them other wise.
So what if I liked to get a little high?
Crush, cut, separate into little lines.
Roll up the bill, inhale sharply, feel the powder rush to your brain.
Lose feeling of your pain for just a little while.
Feel nothing but the tingle of the drug flowing through your veins.
I used to swear I would never touch anything but weed.
But I found myself crushing pills, snorting coke, popping molly.
They say I have a problem.
I can no longer disagree, my demons have consumed me.
Published 9th Mar 2015
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
10th Mar 2015 3:34pm
Keep writing Kayla your honesty will always make you stronger. Even if the truth hurts.
11th Mar 2015 9:08pm
