the addicts of us

A Writer's Soul

One shot of you and I’m hooked,
I’m weak: it’s pathetic,
Hooked on a mere taste of what I could have,
Of what I could be hooked on the rest of my life…
I never thought myself an addict,
Yet here I am,
Doing anything I can do get another shot, another taste of you,
It’s really sad, so consuming that I’m willing to do anything to make you mine,
All I can think of is that hit of you, temptation wrapped in a alluring silhouette,
Is it all in my head, or can you feel it too?
Toxic haze and greedy kisses,
My taste consumed by you, lingering and dragging out the worst in me,
But I blame it all on the addiction, wouldn’t you?

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