Opiate's pen fell flat

 Looking in the mirror,
On an opiate envision
Where I wrote a couple verses
to voice my addiction
and Now im drowning in them

I can't seem to get out of this fucking cycle
No matter how happy the act
The pen seems to be my only way to truly speak on my behalf
Im lost, and Im off track...
Im So easily tricked into following marks
into a rush both first and second half,
Its like my own personal suicide pact
while all of you just sit back and laugh

~Was I too hard too reach
or just outta touch
Maybe I fed that fucking leech
A bit too much
But when push came to shove
I gave a nudge
Walked away satisfied
That I believed I gave enough~