A life I was born not to live has become my daily routine; it’s pleasure, I cherish more than a dream. it stings but yet I feel nothing. How worth is a life that has no meaning?
It seeps through my vein, stealing all the gospel has trained and yet I feel as though it’s not a pain. A sinful act beneath a sinless mind, a sinless act found in a sinful heart. Oh! Forbid me not;
for Who bears the tits of self infused tats, when thoughts are yoked apart, imaginations seize from afar, creativity bonds with tars, the vow of tears backed up with constant repetition of the sinner’s prayer. Hope in fears, all Visions blurred due to a life that worth not to be called my own.
if I lose my home where impossibilities are not found in its tenses, nor failure attached to its faces because it has all been swallowed by my daily devotional routine.
Call it all you can;
But excuse me not if I ever seek your attention for I am nothing other than your addiction; which you cling to as your daily prescription.
Posed to give you a taste without satiety other than an overdosed abuse of desires with no interest, except wrapped attention to my choiceless options.
Giving you a memory you can’t unlearn, a sight you can’t overlook and a pleasure you can’t satisfy. I aimed to cling to all your desires replacing your needs with mine not by coercion but by a simple act of repetition.
You can call me the master thief who robs you without a loaded bullet but by a single act of strayed attention.
I am the arch trick, I give you a thousandfold of the little you lend me with the sole purpose of owing you at a price, if not by the blood, you can’t afford to buy. Blame me not for “I am your ADDICTION.”