I'm so deep in the throws of addiction.

Look at my perfectly blended eye shadow.
Purples and blues swirl into something that matches the other.

"I love you" his words echo in my pounding head.
But I'm just the other women.
His first love doesn't breath until the seal is cracked

My addiction is him, his addiction I can't beat.

Look at my beautiful full lips.  They whisper promise of love and happiness.
Fuller now,  bruised and miss used as the sweet taste if blood lingers on my tongue.

I wish your kiss flowed to me,  as easily they do the open mouth of that glass vessel.

Your gentle hand caress my body with the gentleness shown to your bottle.  

With every sip,  another betrayal on my heart.

In my head I know to run fast, but my feet stay glued, as my heart won't let me leave.

My hopes and dreams consumed by you.  A future unseen without you.

An unforgiving present,  and a painful past.

I love you too.

Hello,  I am a puddle person.
I'm certainly not the only puddle person, of course.
And I often think I'm more puddle then person.

I lay on the floor still.
People come by and see themselves reflected in me.
Sometimes they step in me,  and drops of me splish around and evaporate.

I'm content being a puddle it's, comfortable.
People are aware of me whether looking at themselves, tip toeing around me or jumping in.

I am NOT invisible.

Love me or hate me this puddle person isn't going anywhere,
until I become more puddle then person.