The Confession Of One Addicted To Orange
'Take these two orange pills and everything will be alright, ' she said to me,
by Lotte Ahmad
Her voice, a gentle but insistent lull cooling the embers of my dying resistance.
I gave her my abundance,
she gave me an escape.
A trade by barter relationship of which I lost more than I thought to gain.
'These orange little pills will kill me, ' I confess time after time,
And then pop open the white little bottle
to take a two-hour trip away from the pain I seek to evade.
But how can I cease that which I don't want to stop?
They make things alright,
they make me so happy,
nothing has ever made me happier.
How then can you ask me to live without this light?
How dare you ask me to be without my delight.
These orange little pills have saved me;
Saved me to self-destruct for a little while longer.
Saved me to lose more of my dignity,
So that I can die a crazy fool's death.
I know just what they do to me,
A bittersweet knowledge I keep inside of me.
They give me so much pleasure,
only to take away more of my soul.
I can't do without these orange little pills.
God knows I don't want to do without them.
Yes, they steal my life
and rob me of the dignity a being in control of herself would have.
But they give me something to live for,
Something to live on,
Something to not be able to live without,
God knows, O only God knows.