I get drunk, then get faded,
My mind is numb, borderline deflated.
Because I started thinking 'bout you and me-
How is it that it's my true love killing me?
She's on a murder spree,
On route to destination: me.
I'm hung up, I can't breathe,
As she forgot about me.
Murder he wrote.
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Love Addict: The Collective
Poetryraw exploration of love's highs and lows-the thrill of infatuation, the ache of withdrawal, and the pull that feels as addictive as it is electrifying. Through each act, this collection dives deep into the phases of love that blur reality and consum...
