Weird obsessive compulsion to rhyme (and to remember, shouldnt eat lime)

Started smoking on friday, oh hang on I mean last friday. I think that two nights atleast, I must have slept, somehow I believe this, but in my brain that information wasnt kept. Not really knowing then, it should really be said, that all this information seems to have never been in my head. Lets then just say for the sake of this, I have been up for ages on dehydrated cat piss. Many hours not satisfied with information assumption, forgetting to smoke was good, reduced consumption. One night or morning or even one day, Was reading crap poem, bout what cant recall to say. At some point in time futuristic to this, began using rhythm to read about dry cat piss. Inside my head this rhythm I heard, Its point was simple, timing for word. On the arrival of this strange epiphany, my skill to rhyme became uncanny. The words I now used to write, read and speak; had to rhyme the entire length of my tweak.

My addict, my friend. My leader, my end.

You wont like to read it, what I really did to her,
I couldn't care less though, she's an obedient chauffeur.
I am the one that got us on Meth, and the one that made her smell of death.
I am the one who made her so sick, forget to eat and become very weak
I am the one who made her body a dump, still into her this toxic waste I will pump
I put her in hospital vomiting blood, promised to heal her with our good drug
I kept her in the city on a week long binge, Hallucinations of midgets;
Of blood soaked walls and voices so scary, coming from down the halls.
I am the one who makes her carry a knife, rob frightened women under darkness o'night.
I am the one who made her defraud, not once not twice, but quite a few more.
I am the one from whom evil you will hear, the things I can say will instill you with fear.
Her saliva and urine, her skin and her sweat; If it comes out her body, it'll smell of rancid phet
I am the one who drives her so mad, with all my evil ways she'll feel ever so bad
You will not like me; Never! not one little bit; I'll tell you right now I gave her every hit.
Reaching my crash is what I love most, When I sweetly doze off and just leave her to roast.
Scold me and scorn me, Hurt me and hate me? I'll taunt her and trick her.Then I'll just dose her,
and you best be believing, Then I'll just kill her.

This is written by me, the weak half, the lefty. The right half her addict, her dear friend and strong leader till the end.
Written under the influence of a very newly acquired, bizarre and obsessive need to rhyme most likely from being wired.