Controlling Me

Alcohol can't cut it,
Weed doesn't work too well,
I need that white powder,
And that bitter brown one too,

I feel a need,
To get high,,
To feel above the ground,
To feel below it,

I need that drug,
So I can stop this itch,
This odd sickness,
That plagues my mind,

Oh god why'd I ever touch it,
Why'd I allow it in,
Why do I do this to myself,
I hate myself,

These drugs control me,
My mind,
My actions,
It deafens anything else,

I wish I could just stop,
But they call to me,
Promising a good time,
It never is,

Sniffing,
Then rolling my head back,
And run my hands through my hair.
The same routine,

Give up on life,
I'm a failure,
A loser,
A reject,
Its all downhill from here.