I made a pact with my senses never to let you go,
My reality didn't seem to agree with my hopes,
Even when i tried to hold,
I simply was breaking apart
My good bad habit,
The danger i have come to embrace,
The cross I am glad to carry,
Even when stabbed, i dabbed with love.
Lone with my thoughts,
Lying to convience myself,
Covering up the bare with whitewash,
It seems to work till the wrenching pain flooded,
It crushed me till i was found on the theatre table.
and pills became my constant friend.
It was bad for me, i was well aware
I was too good for it, i know,
But you have become my good bad habit,
If only i never met you, then i would let you go.
But now that i do, only the ripper can help me now.
Diary of a Foodie!
