It’s just an addiction,
Like sugar and caffeine,
It’s more colourful than coffee,
And healthier than nicotine,
It’s focused around the self,
No one else is involved,
No one is dragged into sickness,
Each time the addiction evolves,
There’s no passive smoking,
And no drunken brawls,
Just endless adrenaline rushes,
Inside your own home’s walls,
There are no side effects of accidental overdose,
There are no cases that ruin your insides,
There is no disillusionment afterwards,
And no drunken accidents when cars collide,
There are no mornings where you wake up,
And wonder where you’ve been,
There is only that one split second,
When you feel you’re in a dream,
There isn’t a caffeine high,
Or a pulse from Saccharin,
There’s only the point when you realise,
You can’t stop after you begin,
There is no hyper-activeness,
No shortness of breath,
In fact for just one moment,
You reach out and touch death,
There is no advert on the television,
That tells you that it’s wrong,
You never have to hear about it,
Except perhaps hidden in a rock song,
There are no unused smoking patches,
And no wrappers from chocolate bars,
There is no empty bottle of vodka nearby,
And no tiny injection scar,
But there are the scars all across your skin,
And the emptiness in your eyes,
You can’t seem to tell the truth anymore,
You open your mouth and out come the lies,
You try to tell yourself that you can stop,
You know that it’s not true,
The longer you put it off,
The more the need shines through,
Self Mutilation has taken you over,
There’s nothing that will halt its reign,
That inexplicable urge,
To bring yourself pain,
You can’t talk to your friends,
They just won’t understand,
That you reached out for addiction,
And grasped it in both hands.