i overthink about her most times.

i wander about noisily in my room during the dark hours of night.

she’s both the addiction and the cure

the therapy and death.

i can’t help myself.

the lack of control is strangely appealing to me.

i can only wish that she feels the same way about me as i do about her.

i fear the love i have for her is consuming me.

i am losing myself to her.

and she doesn’t know it. yet.