Is there enough to fill in grooves around my eyes?
Is it strong enough to seal the cracks in me?
Is it powerful enough to scrub away the blackness from my thoughts?

If it is then I would bottle it,
keep the memory of you and your love for when the cracks reappear,
when the lines are gouged into my skin,
and when the blackness grows spreads like mould in the dank, dark attic of my head.

Please let it be deep enough to swim in,
you'll be the ever watchful life guard,
making sure I don't drown in it.

Because your love is like giving water to a dying man in the desert,
or rich food to the starving and malnourished.

I'll keep wanting and taking it until it kills me,
but what a way to die.