Heroine

She’s my heroine. She’s my heroin.
She gives me strength. She encourages me. I’m possessed by her. She is my ultimate high.
She rewards me for deeds well done while easing the pain of my wrongs. 
With her, I flourish. I feel like I can accomplish anything regardless of the circumstances or restraints.
With her, I know that I can never be defeated, even when each battle I face has little to no chance of success.

She’s my heroine. She’s my heroin.
Beguiled into thinking that she was just an alternative, I once dabbled in her scent during a brief moment of weakness.
In the beginning, she was just a toy or a fleeting sensation, but soon I built up a tolerance for even the most potent.
And before I could stop it, I was filling myself with everything she would allow as often as she would allow it.
Soon my life was nothing more than a series of remorseless lies; unable, I became, to utter even a word of truth.

But what she provides isn’t all for the best…
My mind continues to cloud the lines between right and wrong until the result is one long, indistinguishable blur.
When I constantly make the same poor more decisions, I know I am hooked by a control from which I cannot break free.
The physical dependence has resulted in this unrecognizable beast, one who cares about nobody except for myself.
She loves me when I need her but then refuses to let me be. 
And afterward, I always crumble into one gigantic heap, consumed by feelings of regret, guilt, shame, and remorse.

She’s my heroine. She’s my heroin.
When the days are long and the hours seem endless, there is nothing that allows even a moment of comfort.
No respite from the pushing and pulling, no relief from the bending and breaking.
When everything else seems so bleak, it’s the anticipation of my time with her that is all that keeps me going.
Smothering myself with her as a way to cope with the realities of another treacherous day is all I that I look forward to.

She’s my heroine. She’s my heroin.
When the weight of the world becomes too much to bear, I escape the pain by drenching myself with her.
With her, all of the certainties of my tumultuous world are instantly forgotten.
With her, there are no uncomforting looks, there is no judgment, and nothing is ever taken personally. 
With her, no wish is ever denied, no request too taboo, but quickly how I learn that nothing comes for free.

But what she provides isn’t all for the best…
The resulting chemical imbalances haunt me during the most inopportune of times.
I feel dissatisfied and moody when she is not present to keep me in check.
She unfairly changes my equilibrium with each new trick; her performances are always so convincing.
I’m entirely subservient to her, I respond with a resounding yes to even the slightest hint of an invitation.
And afterward, I always crumble into one gigantic heap, consumed by feelings of regret, guilt, shame, and remorse.

She’s my heroine. She’s my heroin.
She feeds my addiction with everything she has; she contributes to these compulsions with all that she is.
The anticipation alone makes me lightheaded while a single taste instantly has me feeling like I’m floating on clouds.
How she so richly touches the parts of me that are unable to be quenched in any other way.
The pleasures I try to achieve in other facets of life fail in comparison to the rush I feel in the moment.

She’s my heroine. She’s my heroin.
During times away, I crave her more. This vast feeling of utter emptiness is too often too much to bear.
When the day is bright and full of possibilities, I’m trapped in her darkness, unable to appreciate any of it.
In a world that’s full of captivating beauty, I find fewer and fewer reasons each new morning to be.
When natural sunlight tries to pierce my blinds and invite me to join the day, I find the need to hide is stronger than ever.   

But what she provides isn’t all for the best…
She interferes with my brain’s ability to receive, understand, and process the real pains of my world.
It’s the euphoria I lust after that is now completely impossible to reach doing anything else.
There are no viable substitutes for the highs I experience with her and the lows I live when she is not near.
From the first taste until she’s all used up, I’m a servant to her beck and call, unable to even try and say no.
And afterward, I always crumble into one gigantic heap, consumed by feelings of regret, guilt, shame, and remorse.

She’s my heroine. She’s my heroin. 
Years have passed since our introduction; how I wish I could return to that moment and act differently.
I’ve lost it all while stretching for that one ultimate, continuous high.
I’m a danger to myself and also to others; the actions I make are without consideration of any consequences. 
When I reach for her and she is nowhere to be found, I am forced to deal with circumstances that I just cannot do alone.

She’s my heroine. She’s my heroin.
I desire her now. I need her now. I thirst for her. I cannot possibly last another moment without her by my side.
I hear hundreds of different names floated around; they differ by location, by size, by duration, by cost.
The temporary effects may differ slightly, but the long-lasting impact remains the same. 
If I try for respect, for adulation, or more, I’m always feeling more worn out, hollow, neglected, and rejected.

But what she provides isn’t all for the best…
All that should have been meaningful was taken away from me without so much as a protest.
I remember vividly all of the moments that she was stealing from me.
I knew all of the risks. I knew all of the dangers. I knew I was playing with fire. And still, I was unable to say no.
I did this to myself. I knew the risks. I am responsible. I deserve all of this.
And afterward, I always crumble into one gigantic heap, consumed by feelings of regret, guilt, shame, and remorse.