My wounds are self-inflicted
what would you know about addiction.

I'm junkie pill popper not a victim.
did I also mention that I'm
a drinker.

There's no compassion for people like me.

As in adam and eve I'm the forbidden fruit that's hanging from the tree.

My wounds are self-inflicted.
everyday for me it seems like christmas.

I get high to the point of no return
I've overdosed several times but it's a lesson never learned.

Born in the gutter and raised by wolves it seems like my destiny was set in stone.

I don't cry anymore I have no tears left.
I don't love anyone because she upped and left.

The one I can count on when she enters my veins
She eases my suffering and numbs the pain.

So for now it's just me and my empty coffee cup
With a sign that reads
Show me some love.

Can you spare some change as I wave my coffee cup.
it's her love inside the needle
That I'm thinking of.

My wounds are self-inflicted.
I tried praying but I do it from a distance.
I don't have a future
I don't have love in my life
I don't have the support I need I've given up the fight.

My wounds are self-inflicted
So full of promise and so gifted.
As I can write poetry in my sleep.
this gift that was given to me at my feet.
But I choose to throw it all away for the love of the needle yes I am a junkie today and always.

this piece goes out to my brothers who have passed from addiction.
© jsix2one