It's the high that never comes down.


It's that buzzed, zazzed feeling

of alcoholic blood 

intoxicating every inch of 

your throat, lungs, brain.


It's the lust, the desire

for the exploration

of another person's body.


It's the saddness

that finally fucking 

goes away.


It's a lingering want

for someone

we can't have.

It's them. 

It doesn't go away.

-The ones we will always want

because they feel so good 

far away.


This poem is about: 
Our world


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