The way my soul craves you, how it becomes intoxicated and sedated by you -
It's better than a drug or chasing any dragon.
When you're gone I'm no better than a poor lost soul in rehab. Aching, craving, missing a key piece of the day.
And while life is functionable, it is dull. A husk of what it can be.
I'll never grow tired of the way you make me feel.
How truly lucky I am to have a friend, a lover, a salve, a confidant. My high, my muse, my love.
YOU ARE READING
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PoetryA collection of poetry across ages, moments, and confusion. Tw - read at own desire
