Addict.
I've walked along burning coals,
craving some salvation.
A little spark of light would flicker,
followed by temptation.
I'd follow the pull inside my heart,
down to the empty street.
Always ending in a fork,
where pain and pleasure meet.
I don't know who decides,
the direction for the night,
but I always run into my demons,
and they always want to fight.
Maybe someday I'll choose the road,
with less intimidation.
But for now I still tread those coals.
The pain is my medication.
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