One last blow out. 

One last crucial hit.

A delightful dream which is

way out of the desired grip.

 

Every repetition of this addictive action

Every summon to this predicted slip.

Each time over and over again

Causes our precious belief to slowly rip.

 

The belief is to quit and seek much further beyond.

The truth that we desire of which we have oh so longed.

This could be within my reach... something I could achieve. 

Yet it remains a need I’m unable to relieve.

 

Weakness is now my too famaliar reality 

Unnatural is my only description of this established sanity.

 

Advice... that can’t help..its only a profanity.

 

To define such suggestions is a disgrace to this humanity.

 

I’m no longer a fan of this feeling. I’m no longer satisfied.

I’m no longer supportive of this being. Im forever striving to run and hide.

 

I’m scared of the future, the next day or hour. 

I escape the darkness with a selective type of sour. 

I’m reeling with disappointment, I’m overflowing with uncertainty.

 

This life has its claws in every weak part of me.