This love is a pathology,
A mind clearly powerless over
A heart mired with longing

Go on and medicate me,
Quell these dopamine starved receptors
They want only your taste,
They want only you.

As the years stretch,
The prognosis grows more grim,
As I drink in your absence
And choke on its bitterness,
I tell myself, *"Finish your medicine"