Go Listen to this on Katha
Smoke, Liquid, Pill, Needle, Flesh,
Addiction
is a dangerous game
and if there was one thing
I loathed about myself,
it was that baby,
I was hopelessly addicted to you.
And with you gone,
there was a blank space
there was an echoing void
screaming, I had to make amends.
I crave cigarettes
like crave getting lost
in the liquid brown warmth of your eyes
but recalling, I now gasp,
because it feels like I’m drowning.
I crave the burn of alcohol down my throat
like the kisses you trailed there
that left a mark of burning desire
but is now scorching me.
And I crave a drug that would make me forget,
if only for a while, the way you made me feel.
But nothing was ever enough
to replace everything you took from me.
Addiction
is a dangerous game
and I am having withdrawals
from the boy I once loved.
Shaking, heart aching,
for an ounce of you
I could still have.
There was a need for your lips
So I pressed mine to a filter instead.
There was a craving for your touch,
So I busied my fingertips with a lighter.
Praying! One addiction
would override another.
One, or two, or four.
Addiction
is a dangerous game
and with poison in my bloodstream,
still inhaling shit
to try and numb
an all too familiar pain,
I regret what
I have let myself become.
They would say
cigarettes were bad for me,
That the smoke would fill my lungs,
making it hard to breathe,
That it would eat away
at my insides,
Ensuring a slow and painful death.
But baby, let me assure you,
losing you was no different.