Loves. Drug.

When did love become a narcotic? It's like our perfect drug, the one we strive for. It doesn't matter who we are we all live for that moment. The one where our hearts swell to the point where you want it to burst out your chest so the pain of perfect pleasure will stop. Shakespeare wrote true "If music be the food of love, play on; give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die...".

We all have those moments, weather it be that one song and the piano seems so in sync with your heart you just will for it to play louder and deeper so that when it ends your left broken and empty that you know it was worth the price, you know you will be able to pick your self up again. Or it could be the image of your love that will be entapped in your minds eye for all eternity, almost blinding you with love and passion. It could be the simple smile of a friend, the one you know will be there till the end; through tears and smiles. We all have those moments and if they are returned then we are lucky.

But what about the few of us who give, the dealer who gets nothing? No profit just the sentence when they are caught out. We wait in silent plea, we give those smiles, we sore with the chords but then are left broken. Unable to pick ourselves up but carry on, crawling amoung the needles used to kill us. We feel wrong, misplaced...misused. Like theres a part missing, as if we are a beacon crying out and then don't recieve any answers. People will use us for our loyalty, compassion and then sentence us to guilt for allowing them to find out.

"He is armed without who is innocent within, be this thy screen, and this thy wall of brass."