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i'm addicted
to the smoke of the past,
this flame inside me.
light me up
with your eyes,
your body,
your wit and laughter,
conversations of the past,
and i'll suck on the moment
for dear life,
hands trembling, twitching,
craving reprieve,
dulling rationality,
deluding... no.
my dependency growing evermore
with each of your gestures.
i'm stuck
on you
and there's two ways out,
to ignore
or to befriend,
to be consumed
or to cast away doubt
and hope for the future.
and have i done either
and have i done either?
no patch for this.
i'm terrified.