by A. M. Buxman
A poem about an addict finally turning their back on drugs.
|I made myself hate you because I knew it was time,
Time to go back to the way things used to be in my life.
Life, such an easy word then, now scorched with pain and regrets,
Regrets of what I did, what you made me do during my weakest hours.
Hours that turned into months, that turned into years that I'll never get back.
Back then I was foolish and gullible, but now I'm wise and I see you.
You are not my answer or fix, but my biggest enemy of all.