lately, I’ve been finding myself
sympathetic
with the alcoholics and drug abusers

and I’ve been creating
and relying
on my own habits
just to feel you again.

I watch the grass glow
and inhale the smoke,
and the sweet taste reminds me
of our nights spent together.

we moved like earthquakes
and our mouths were the desert,
but I still couldn’t keep
my shaky hands
or dry lips off yours.

and I know this is wrong,
because what we had was
only a twisted game of
Pretend.

and I know I can’t keep
wasting my heart,
feeling for people
who don’t feel back for me.

but I guess no one
will ever understand
what it’s like for us,
addicts.

to want so badly
to shatter the half-empty bottles,
to break every last ******* cigarette in the pack,
to stop destroying ourselves.

but I keep on depending
because my altered mind state
is always slightly better
than feeling the pain
of the hole you left
in my heart.