My Drink is Empty

I desire something.

Something to quench my thirst.

My thirst for relief.

Relief from this cold world,

that for me is filled with anxiety and paranoia. Sadness and stress.

I crave happiness.

With a blade I used to draw blood,

now I try to use my words.

But sometimes words just aren't enough.

I need more.

But what of?

People tell me I have an "addictive gene".

I'd have to say that I agree.

I need something.

Something to take the tightness form my chest,

the ache from my back,

the sleepless nights,

the panic attacks.

I want something, anything at this point.

Nicotine, alcohol, food, a blade.

Anything to take this away...