breathe {poetry}--

harvested addiction

she picked up new habits 

like pebbles near a stream 
pocketing them 
for only her to keep.
her old pebbles 
worn down : smooth
they were once jagged 
slicing open her hands whenever she fell 
and yet 
she kept her fingers 

tightly wrapped about them. 
the many shards of shattered glass
for she knew 
one day-
no longer would pebbles encased in barbed wire have an effect 
on her delicate paled skin.
she was right once again 
correct about her old addictions 
she adopted them as her own 
fixed them up : refused to let go 

she picks up more now
thoughts crowding her head 
but the only one that matters 
is when her infatuations with the beauties of addiction 
will cause her death 
for she has full pockets 
it wont be long now