mr_fluffy
Bluelighter
the tools of my distraction
are the tools of my destruction.
what once gave me pleasure
is slowly corroding who i once was
taking life away breath by breath
destroying me
going up in smoke.
the tools of my abstraction
are the tools of my destruction.
no longer temporary or occasional
i look at life with a different view 24/7
each one different than the last.
what was i thinking?
i mean it
what was it like to think without a crutch?
the tools of my affection
are the tools of my destruction.
what once helped break the ice
shatters the mirror of reality in my heart
and what once was gospel truth
dissipates when the come-down kicks in
and a stock-take is done
do i really feel like this?
and it's not just the drugs talking.
the tools of my instruction
are the tools of my destruction.
when you know what you need to know
and you've learned every hard lesson, several times over
how long will you keep repeating?
before passing the exam?
or deciding that maybe you were stupid in the first place
and that,
maybe your square, strait-laced parents were right after all.
the tools of my obstruction
are the tools of my destruction.
what once made me feel safe
and secure
and gave me comfort
now cost, money, self-respect, sanity, life?
no escape in the escape
cold, hard, real ground will meet you with full force
when the escape finally melts away.
the tools of my addiction
are the tools of my destruction.
crystal, pipe, lighter, and the rest
i cannot seem to lay to rest.
i swear, i swear, i can't go on
and live this life of temptation.
i fall, i stumbe, i get up
and often think of giving up
but as long as i draw breath,
i'll fight my nature to the death.
the tools of my salvation
are not the same as my destruction.
i know not, but i seek to find
something to soothe my addled mind
i used to learn, i'm learning still
how to curb my wayward will.
and every time i fall, get burned
i count yet one more lesson learned.
and at least i can take heart
that in this life, i took a part.
*what is it about some things that seem to draw us back, again and again, no matter how destructive we know they are? i'm not just talking about drugs, it could be a bad relationship, food, the need for sex, etc. sometimes i wonder what good knowledge is for, when primal parts of us refuse to listen to reason, and obstinately hold out for the short term satisfaction at the cost of the long-term good*
are the tools of my destruction.
what once gave me pleasure
is slowly corroding who i once was
taking life away breath by breath
destroying me
going up in smoke.
the tools of my abstraction
are the tools of my destruction.
no longer temporary or occasional
i look at life with a different view 24/7
each one different than the last.
what was i thinking?
i mean it
what was it like to think without a crutch?
the tools of my affection
are the tools of my destruction.
what once helped break the ice
shatters the mirror of reality in my heart
and what once was gospel truth
dissipates when the come-down kicks in
and a stock-take is done
do i really feel like this?
and it's not just the drugs talking.
the tools of my instruction
are the tools of my destruction.
when you know what you need to know
and you've learned every hard lesson, several times over
how long will you keep repeating?
before passing the exam?
or deciding that maybe you were stupid in the first place
and that,
maybe your square, strait-laced parents were right after all.
the tools of my obstruction
are the tools of my destruction.
what once made me feel safe
and secure
and gave me comfort
now cost, money, self-respect, sanity, life?
no escape in the escape
cold, hard, real ground will meet you with full force
when the escape finally melts away.
the tools of my addiction
are the tools of my destruction.
crystal, pipe, lighter, and the rest
i cannot seem to lay to rest.
i swear, i swear, i can't go on
and live this life of temptation.
i fall, i stumbe, i get up
and often think of giving up
but as long as i draw breath,
i'll fight my nature to the death.
the tools of my salvation
are not the same as my destruction.
i know not, but i seek to find
something to soothe my addled mind
i used to learn, i'm learning still
how to curb my wayward will.
and every time i fall, get burned
i count yet one more lesson learned.
and at least i can take heart
that in this life, i took a part.
*what is it about some things that seem to draw us back, again and again, no matter how destructive we know they are? i'm not just talking about drugs, it could be a bad relationship, food, the need for sex, etc. sometimes i wonder what good knowledge is for, when primal parts of us refuse to listen to reason, and obstinately hold out for the short term satisfaction at the cost of the long-term good*
