Once the sweet compliments leave their lips I'm hooked like an addict to a drug. Feening for their approval of a misfit with a complicated past,I do what's necessary to become a picture of perfection in the eyes of my addiction. Dye my hair, skip a meal, change my style, becoming what they adore all the while losing myself. So I sit back and smoke my trees giving myself a second to set my mind free. Free to explore the emptiness which clings to my obsession. maybe it was the fight for attention I always lost when my dad was around or the want for a father when he was gone. Just maybe... But as I come down from my high I always realize my addiction has consumed me, without it what could I possibly be?