You would think I'm the one addicted, calling the spoon black.
Addicted to the smell, the burn, the needle, the fill, the fly; the High.
In a pill..Rolled, melted, shot.
Addicted to the blood, pooling, trickling, staining.
Look at your dying veins, feel the deep inhale; Only a few more seconds until your in your own dimension.
Colors aren't the same, shapes are insane.
Addicted to the images, to care free, that's right breathe deep.
In a whole new world, where you don't have to weep,
Living or on the verge of death, either way, you can just be.
Who wouldn't want to ...