I am addicted.
The atoms of the universe drift apart and violins cease to sound,
the everything we believe we know floating away.

My breath catches in my throat,
choking me as if it was your own hands,
it doesn't burn.

All my color, my shapes,
drifting to nothing and dissipating into my skin.
Starvation gnaws at me,
But I can't eat,
can't sit,
or sleep,
see,
think,
Dying?

But I'm only starting,
preparing to exist as ink stains my hands.

I love you?