gentle hands and kisses wake me
my own brand of heroine
his face next to mine
holds me closely

it’s not healthy for me
or so i’m told
I thought I swore this off
a long long time ago

yet here he is
in my bed, in my arms
I’m unable to say what’s healthy
I’m an addict

I look it, don’t I?
under-slept with smudged make-up
too thin
un-gorgeous despite his words

I’m an addict
keen for another fix
I’m a ramshackle building
waiting to fall in on itself again