Addict
Disclaimer: I do not own Eminem/Marshall Mathers.
Notes: Song credit goes to Faithless “Addictive.”
Parts: 1/1
~~~~
[Change around the words that you say to suit me fine]
I fuckin’ hate the way she speaks to me.
“No, Marshall, I ain’t fuckin’ anyone else!” she’ll say.
I know they’re lies.
But something tries to tell me otherwise. Maybe it’s my heart? Maybe even after all the years and the grief, that there’s still a lingering sensation amongst all the rumble we’ve tumbled.
[Predictable behavior, I crave ya
I'm driven, you're my only living savior
Sometimes I hate ya, but I'm whipped
Being led head down to the crypt
Restricted like a conscript you loved to bully
I place the blame with you fully]
She’s a bitch, and I know it. I’ve felt her wrath more times than I’m willing to admit or count for that matter.
But damn, when I’m with her—when we aren’t throwing shit and cussing each other out—I just wanna hold her and touch her.
It’s her doing.
She can’t take that she’s nothing without me.
That’s she can’t get her own fame, that she’s living off of mine.
It kills her to know that I made it, and she hasn’t.
[Listen,
Don't panic, there's only we two left on the planet
I can explain, I know it happened again
It's manic, I'm standing in the flame trying to fan it
You don't know what you got till it's gone
I'm at the edge of the night where nobody belong
Fingers are drumming
And that's where you come in]
We go around in circles—we’re like a damned revolving door.
We’ll fight.
We’ll kiss.
We’ll make up.
And then we’ll fight again.
I try and leave, but I can never stay away for long. That passion, that fire that burns between us is too strong; it threatens to engulf me every time I stray from her grasp. I feel it killing me, scorching me.
[Listen to the voice in your head
It makes no sense
Take a rest]
So, what do I do?
I stay.
[I'm addicted
I have a demon for a wife
He delights in your pretty face and he hates my life
Takes notes on how to provoke past grief
Makes my teeth decay with the last of my self-belief
Feed all day from underneath like a thief
I'm left weak, barely able to speak
I see nothing but constant supply
I can read every look in your eye]
The papers are right.
We’re together, but we’re not really together.
[I leave with a lie
Maybe our love will never die
Or, maybe it's the last time I make you cry
Make my appeal like the condemned
Let's go away for the weekend
Your life I will steal
And descend with it into the pit]
It’s a pretense we’re both hoping to keep up. Sometimes we talk, sometimes we fuck, and sometimes we try and rip each other’s throats out.
But we’re never a couple—there’s too much between us. Too many memories, good and bad, that are held against any chance we might have.
[I'm addicted]
I’m still here. In our house. In our bed. With our daughter.
She’s still Mrs. Mathers, and I’m still miserable.
The End.
Author: zines@aol.com
These stories are for entertainment purposes only. They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character. No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.