Sore tonight.

 The bottle tops hunt me

The next day. 

A reminder how easy it is 

To throw it all away. 

To lose all sense 

When chasing a high. 

Noone is coming to save me, 

Maybe I'm a bad person 

And that is why?

Friends gone with no goodbye. 

Over thinking everything, 

So I sniff to ease my mind. 

Lose myself in the powder, 

Sniffing the left overs, 

Trying to make sure 

to bin all the bottle tops.

My chest hurts, 

My head sore. 

Trying to work out 

Why I should carry on 

When I'm so sore.