No Control

You're my disease.
No matter what happens,
No matter what i do,
I always wind up wanting you.

You're the razor.
Every word you say,
Every single word,
Cuts deep, souls blurred.

You're a sickness.
With every intake of breath,
I feel myself slipping under,
Heavy eyelids, thoughts of thunder.

And, baby, you're my suicide.
The suffocation is too kind.
So, I take all these pills,
To ease my ills.

Rehabilitate my mind.