wrong way

A habit of destruction

A habit of disgrace

A habit is a habit

Difficult to replace


The more I kick

The more it stays

But when I win

I see his face


There’s no need for alcohol

No drugs of any sort

It’s in no way rational

That he could still cause hurt


I’m the poster child


Plagued with these flashbacks

Shrapnel in the heart


This is what addiction is

He’s the puppet master

And I’m the chump with strings

Can’t help but to relapse



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