You taste your prescious vice,
and your thoughts become obscure;
your cleanliness is flourished
and into a false reality,
you become immersed.
You crucify your mind
with your chosen form of alteration,
always careful to endure
the every facet of the creation.
You fill your void so gratefully;
it's easier to just escape,
but one taste is all it takes
and you are back to your old ways.
You believe you hide it all so well;
that it remains in your control
but there will come that final moment;
that flash before your eyes
when you then must decide
weather to stop,or breathe your last words,
I regret to inform you-
but those last words you say will not exist;
there is no such thing as
"Just once more".
{This poem is dedicated to anyone who has struggled with addiction, or have been affected by it}