Dedicated to my sister in recovery, Naomi…
I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried
The things I go through just to get high
I have a disease that tells me I’m okay
I don’t need help
I’m the boss of me
But my disease can talk me into anything that makes everything go away
And out of anything that brings me back to me
I don’t know what I know
When truth is stranger than fiction
When the lies I tell myself are what keep me coming back for more
Here comes the insanity mantra
“I’m just gonna have one”
Then one turns into fun
And fun turns into oblivion
I scrape myself off the floor
Say I’ll never do it again
But there’s always some excuse to go right back to the pen
I’m a slave to my sickness
A prisoner without chains
So unwilling to see the truth that I’m not the boss of me
There’s no one holding me back
Nothing stopping me from getting better
Except that demon in my mind that tells me I’m so clever
She don’t care about my future
Or anything I’ve lost
My friends, my job, my apartment, my clothes
Everything I own
All she wants is my disease
And my disease just wants my soul
Cuz that’s the cost of my addiction
Now ain’t that stranger than fiction?
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