Diablo con Drugas

Evisceration of morals and aptitude
Preying upon the happiness you so dearly seek
Fortitude is devoid from your qualities
Weakness and paranoia rule your world

Under the rocks and earth you find protection
From there you desire to bring people under
To capitalize on the momentary moments of weakness
An off weekend of joy for which you so slyly infiltrate

You are not a friend only a means to an end
A tool, an accessory, a grab bag of false familiarities
Always present in the dark corner of the room
The embodiment of debauchery and guiltless sin

Creeping into circles you slowly tense
Your grip turns conversations into sandpaper
Gritting grime forms in your gums
Reality turns to spit and that's it.