I am stepping over the abyss into hell

And all I feel is that I Want this.

I think that when I get there all will be well,

But, silly me, it never is.

My demons are there, waiting for me

And I greet their knowing smiles.

I take what they offer me eagerly

And I’m convinced it’s heaven for a while.

When outside pressures fight to bring me out,

I am furious and resigned, alternately.

I am left cold within, and without

At this emotionless reality.

Out of my hell, beyond the demon’s clutches,

I realize that my “heaven” is poorly disguised.

It is holding me back from life, as a pair of crutches

I’m a bit warmer as this I recognize.

My heavenly hell remains, ready for me.

I haven’t the strength to kill it.

I wish that I couldn’t get drawn back so easily,

But as I feel reality’s chill, I will it.

Sometimes I fight half-heartedly

Against the warmth enveloping me.

I never last long and surrender grudgingly

To the call of the pricey pleasures pretending to be free.