Bad Habits

(After much deliberation I have decided to repost this. I wrote it in a time of distress and the connotations within the piece no longer apply to my current state)

Sometimes you just go back,
to ways of old,
ways of the past, which,
you'd rather not repeat,
usually when you think
that you've escaped them,
on those dark days
where everything seems
to go the wrong way,
and your new methods
of coping just don't cut it.

Cut it, I guess that's what you're scared of,
after years of never going back to that place
you've arrived there again,
and you'd rather not be there at all
but I guess when you fall,
into situations that you blow
way out of proportion,
you are going to land
on the concrete foundations of old
and do what used to help.

And so the blade cuts the flesh deep,
straight down the vain,
you think a final happy thought
as you'll never see the world again.