An addiction, that's what he was
Greeted by a pulsating desire to shoot him,
through every vein in my body
A soft start, to calm my worries with his powers,
and a smile like two rows of gold
Swearing to not get hooked

Yet, this craving
This head-thrashing, heart pounding drug
Took the whole of me, and I collapsed under his heart
Feeling him seeping into my skin and absorbing all that is me

This drug, I swore I would let go
Yet, he left me yearning for more

He became my addiction, and I,
the weakening abuser, refusing to get clean
Because if getting clean, meant letting go
I, refused to
 

-Chloe Aldecoa