"Trips" - Rachel Peterson


"Trips" - Rachel Peterson

I am addicted
I have been for years it's not one that I could fight I feel as though I am diseased
It's like despite the amount of times that I've told myself I'm quitting that I've told the world I'm quitting that I've told you I'm quitting I just can't seem to find myself quitting

The come up hits you in the face it's like a sharp slap that stings and leaves red marks on your cheek
But once the trip starts it's got you hooked
So hooked that you'll do things like take the hand that just slapped you and cup it ever so gently against your cheek and hope that you could feel the warmth because somehow that slap hurt in just the right way and the wrong way at the same time
And though the trip is the best out of any drug there is the comedown is absolutely the worst
It leaves you feeling empty like there's a hole that is been shot through your chest with buckshot and every time you fill one of the little holes another little hole appears right beside it
The only way to fill almost all of the little holes at least enough of the little holes so it doesn't hurt anymore is to take another dose

I was given my first dose when I was 14
It was handed to me like a newborn puppy and I couldn't help but to touch it and pet it and rub my face in it and allow it to follow me wherever I went
It didn't take long for me to find out that my dose wasn't pure
I discovered that the tainted drug led to the impressions of a good trip
But all the while set you up for a come down that would bring you down lower than even where you started
Isn't it a shame that the first time you try a laced drug makes you not ever want to try it again

And maybe that's why I didn't immediately go try and find love again

But when I found love again I found the purest thing the real thing and the trip was more than I ever could've imagined
But the come down this time was my fault
I couldn't make it last 
I had developed a tolerance 
I needed more of it and I didn't like the corners of his soul that were blocked off when I tried to look at them and even more I didn't like that I wasn't ready to show him the corners of my soul that were blocked off
It wasn't enough
And I knew it
And that made my addiction worse

But now it was worse because I knew what I wanted 
I became obsessed with knowing what it was 
How do you define love 
When is it strongest and how can I get my hands on it 
For a time I confused it with how his hands felt on my skin 
And at some point I realized I needed a soul behind those hands but he wasn't there so I didn't know any better 
I think I'm still confused 

The part of my addiction I can control is how far I want to go 
I must either trip forever 
Or not again ever at all 
I can't have a link to each world 
I've never liked to have strings attached 
I don't have the capacity for grayscale love 
Either black me out or show me all the colors of the world 
There can't be a second dose 
To come down again would be fatal and if I'm going to die by love 
That love better be the most unadulterated kind you can find 
Because I refuse to go out at the hands of an incomplete desire 


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