loving her was like a drug
a love infused trip
a pink and purple haze
of passion and lust
but also of tenderness
and ecstasyloving her was a high
a low
a heavenly life
and a hellish deathI swore,
I died every time she kissed me
but every time she said
"I need you"
I was revivedshe was addictive
like the best line
the best hit
the strongest drinkI couldn't get her out of my head
she latched herself to my brain
clinging there
as if her life depended on itone day, I felt an emptiness in my chest—
I couldn't find my heart,
and thought I surely misplaced it;
then I knew
it was probably
laying somewhere in her bedroom
beside the last book she read
on top of the last painting she created
beating,
bleeding,
dying,
for her