I’ve never been good with moderation.
Or at least my heart hasn’t.
See I can handle my alcohol,
And I don’t touch drugs.
It’s people that trip me up.
I get attached
And if I let you in,
Then I’ve given you a part of me
That I need.
I need you, so I can be me.
I can’t do things by half,
It’s all or nothing with me.
And sweet irony strikes again.
See I’m too much,
And therefore not enough.