Addicted

I feel guilty
Just as the user
Hidden in that lonely room
In the back of his house
Who feels the same way,

At the same parallel time
Forgetting about that guilt.
Which always spirals
Into that unimpeachable fanaticism.

Just as they reach
For that small amount of stash
They have been hiding
And just using enough
Not to be found out.

Oh how I forget
And how I become a bit carefree
When I think of you now

Sarah Lee
2-4-98