Speak Up

They say addicts are hollow and empty. One who is an addict; a true addict will not admit it. I can vividly picture the stereotype. Their enigma for life is truly never thought of even though their dreams have become nothing but a blur. That’s something that I would not know anything about of course. Day by day just living with one purpose. To consume. It starts off as just a celestial feeling— Soon to be their only reason to live. I imagine them all lean and pallid. But most of the destruction is happening from the inside out. Sickness is normal. Lying is the only way to get it. It’s a need. I will be sick without it. A sheen reflection of my new self brought me to my knees. Puddles of blood surround me. What has happened to me? It has killed my soul. How did it get this far? It was just an innocent and fun act. slowly I will just self destruct until there is nothing left.