A Final Release

Poetry is a drug,
An escape, an addiction and an illusion of emotion
A release 
 
Injecting words of poison in my stream
The immediate release of agony, I beam
My adrenaline has increased as I continue to my next line
All that is left is nothing but rhyme 
My stance has weakened
Fumble for aid but my scars have deepened 
Leaped in,
Yet the ink is left on my skin 
Poetic madness
Screams of sadness
I am left as an addict
Write me a ballad,
Inhale a metaphor that is valid
Hopefully yours will not involve 
Pills in attempt to devolve 
Poetry is a drug,
An escape, an addiction and an illusion of emotion
 
A final release.