Addictions.
You always say that your addictions reflect who you are.
That the alcohol you ingested was the true product poisoning your mind.
Each day you would swear a convalescence from it, that metanoia would take over.
Every day I would tell you to put the bottle down, to leave it behind.
But today zemblanity took place.
I realized that alcohol isn't the only addicting substance.
Love is the easiest drug of them all to form a habit of.
And all the nights I swore I'd leave you, claiming my profound hatred of you?
Each time was spoken in vain.
While you are dependent to alcohol, I am forever fatally enslaved to you.
YOU ARE READING
We Called it Love.
PoetryA collection of tales written by a depressed poet. Inspired by the boy who promised he'd never break her. These are the faults in my heart.
