Vice

I don’t have a solution
I don’t know how to fight it
The urge was so great
I could not stop myself

Now the guilt is waves of dark mass rolling around the corner of my room

The shadows whisper cutting through
The carefully woven fabric of my doing
Flowers are dead and ethereal stars
Are exploding in my head

Should I give up
Maybe I shouldn’t fight it if I can’t
Because what am I going to do
Every time the urge comes and I can’t control myself
I can’t keep feeling this guilt
Just because I can never get enough of it

I just want to live.

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