Vice

Seeping, creeping through their veins.

The illusion that it rids the pain.

Forever thirsty, never satisfied.

They claw and scratch and the demons cry.

Fear to recognize.

To look themselves in the eyes.

The elixir of fun, the veil of happiness.

Chokeholds them into incoherent bliss.

Forever taunted from the inside.

A piece of their soul has surely died.

Drowned, swirling into numbness.

There is no escaping this.

She will pin you down into submission

Beat you until you are no longer living.

The liquid siren, the Medusa’s head

She is beautiful until you lay her down in bed

Slowly, inch by inch she devours.

Nothing has color anymore, trees or flowers.

And at the end of your life, sullen as you lay,

You know, hopeless and disheveled, that she has got her way.

She always wins, that story is old.

And no matter what, she has control.

Poison. The vice. Man’s guilty pleasure.

No one escapes her treacherous endeavor.

So give up your breath,

And sign over your life.

She will watch you bleed

When she carves deeper with her knife.