I know I don’t want this.
Don’t want the drug I finally weaned myself off.
But the hollow is still there.
The broken hearted,
shattered collarbone
little girl I grew out of.
I thought I know how to act.
How to keep my shit together when I’m around you.
But out of nowhere I feel that flood of endorphins.
That raucous chorus of cooing doves, angel choirs and every pop song ever written.
And I’m falling back onto my favorite drug
My favorite dealer right where I left him.
No comments:
Post a Comment