It makes me who I want to be The stomach pain when its been too long. The night sweats. The reclusive tendencies brought on by withdrawals; only leaving the house to buy more on my days off. The spare tire around my waist, and I used to love sports and working out! The bleeding gums. The short breaths. The relationships with family, friends, and lovers that Ive ruined. Her. The dread when I see my swollen face in the mirror, and my rising weight on the scale. The diarrhea, god damn do I pray for just one solid shit. The food I don't eat anymore. The justifications. It used to be fun, and it used to just be on the weekends. Now its necessary. This is not who I want to be.