He’s addicted
More so to the chase than the temporary high
Finding refuge in reason
Some dedication to the pursuit of…something?
Trivial as it may be
It’s a motive for survival
Living life like today is his last
Nothing good can come from sleep
So he scrapes by on doses rather than dozes
Appreciating dawn’s arrival
As if he’d won some kind of battle
But come the evening it’s like he lost the war
Constantly tripping over any sense of mind
Having no sense of time
Verbally speaking, he makes no sense at all
Losing ground, lacking faith
Elevated on a trailing train of thought
Reflecting on the past
Because life looks better through the rearview these days
Tangent rages of anger shoot through his veins
The rush of adrenaline relieves him
Then he turns for another fix
Desperate to un-break what was unbreakable
But his mere existence seems shattered
And there’s nothing left for him to believe in
Other than the thrill of the chase that gets him high
He’d rather feel the summit
Than the painful realization in the decline
So he swims in a consistent inebriation
Under the influence of fantasy
Sometimes lies sound so much better than the truth