Compulsion

Everywhere I look, it seems
replacements are abound.
Right now I have only dreams
to ease the pain I found.

Or make it worse, if that’s the case;
I’m sure that much will do.
Whatever I get from the chase
I cannot make it through.

Bang my head against the wall,
this time I will not bleed.
Maybe I can keep it all
if I just pay no heed.

Familiar pain sure beats the fear
of trying to be real,
but now to keep my conscience clear
with sickness I must deal.

Push too hard and have no luck,
this seems to be too much.
All that I know is how to fuck
and use them as a crutch.

I will warn as I seduce,
and honesty won’t work;
young and full of baby juice,
I act like such a jerk.

I cannot do this anymore;
something has to give,
before I end up with a whore
or decide not to live.

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