ive kicked it- this addiction-
but i want the room to spin again
to feel it
the euphoria, the rush,
and i never want to let go again
to feel it
flying from my withered grasp-
and yet i stop.
because, despite this addiction,
i never want it to be by my hands
that it dies again
by my callouses,
by my knobbed knuckles,
that i never feel it
over
and
over
again.
YOU ARE READING
NEW HEARTS & COLD SEAS
Poetrywhen they seek you out because they know they can, because they know they can get away with it - anonymity is your friend.
