Nicotine*

Distance has its teeth
biting into my flesh,
and my relentless cravings for you
are a knife,
slowly slicing my sanity away.

I have a tendency
to turn self destructive;
I'll swallow you whole now,
or go without until I'm desperate,
no inbetween,

And so I take cut after cut,
bite after bite,
because I've made a home
for the withdrawal aches;
maybe this is what love looks like.