Addiction

Addiction doesn't knock on your door, it befriends you, talks you

up, makes you feel like a million bucks, becomes your safety net,

the person you can count on for anything, who will never let you

down, who won't leave you after loving you, who won't run away

after promising to stay forever, the one who tells you that

everything will be alright, that you're doing just fine, that you

didn't need them anyway, that you hated that job anyway, that

they'll never understand you anyway, that all you'll ever need is

them, and then when you let them in, they eat your dinner but

never buy groceries, they shoo every guest away, they leave their

dishes out and never clean them, they lay on your couch so

much it breaks, and before you know it they're sprawled out

on your bed, beside you, telling you we don't need them, we don't

need anyone else, we're fine right here, together. Blinds down,

blinders on, racing toward a brick wall inside a silver bullet.