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My Problem

This image portrays My Problem by Addiction Poetry.

Author: Chris G.

Gonna be a problem.

From the second you entered my body,
And swept through like a warm soothing wave.
I knew instantaneously,
You were gonna be a problem,
I laid down in pain when I’d go without your embrace,
Feeling a dire sense of relief the moment I got a taste,
Being surrounded by many in the same situation,
All different,
Yet the same we were all in drug nation,
Some of us past and didn’t come back,
While those left behind talking like it was nothing while taking hits of crack,
All aware of how this fucking nightmare could end,
Unable to get past the drugs being our one and only friend,
This problem of mine leading only to death,
Never stopped me from stopping even til my almost last breath,
Been dead now too many times to reflect about,
I have to pull away Problem you can’t keep me in doubt,
It pains me to walk away from those ‘good times’ we had,
But reality of it is those ‘good times’ were truly all bad,
I miss you sometimes the way you hugged me within,
Til I think of how much of me you had actually taken,
So middle fingers raised high in salute,
To my old friend Problem who has finally gotten the boot.


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