Loving the addict is an addiction in itself Learning to digest all of the sharp pieces that come with it Apologies and how they lose meaning after the second Loving the addict is as much of an art as the hiding is, as the covering up, as the forgive me After some time I love you and I'm sorry start to sound the same letting go and withdrawal become an equal amount of swollen and coming back is more relapse than any tangible substance Loving the addict is a guilty habit growing inside a dark closet feeding the plant until it becomes animal, ravenous love and dependence are both diseases that share the same root
But being the addict is always an attempted break up It is avoidance at its finest It is ripping apart strings of a rope with chipped fingernails in attempts to cut loose ends It is sawing pieces of wood with bare skin and trying not to get a splinter It is leave me It is don't go It is I am trying to not destroy everything in my path It is painting with heavy winds and rain hoping there wont be a mess to clean up But mess is as inevitable as the art is creating And love and addiction mix like oil and water nobody is perfectly capable of cleaning up correctly So we leave in a pile to return to later Coming back is more relapse than any tangible substance that has ever existed and mercy is more perilous than we'd hope it to be