He told me to destroy it. I wanted to, but I could not. It pulls me, lulls me, more toxic than any alcohol. I hate it. I love it. I want to get rid of it, but I do not. I stare at it; my pain seems far, a half forgotten dream. It is soothing, calming, and dangerous. I can not let it go! Should I keep it, it will be my bane, I know. Should I destroy it, I will not be able to live.

Either way, I am damned if I do and damned if I do not.