7 Years Later

I want to be the acid that stays in your spine
    and gives you a trip 7 years later.
I want to be the coke that travels through your nose
    and leaves you lying on your bathroom floor.
I want to be the percocets that sit in your stomach
    waiting to get pumped out through a tube.
I want to be the oxy that makes you spread your legs
    and you won’t remember a thing the next morning.   
I want to be the crystal meth that you couldn’t afford
    so you had to settle for crank.
I want to be the tequila that washes down the rufie
    and you wake up in an alley bleeding
    and your not even on your period.
I want to be the ecstasy that grinds your spine
    but hey, at least you had a good time.