​”I am addicted.
She is my bottle of *****.
She is my cookie crumbs.
She is the eighth colour of my rainbow.
The colour that’s everywhere,
Except inside the rainbow.
She is my three A.M.
The three A.M. pain I write about,
And the three A.M. calls I don’t make.
She is my happy ever after.
The happy ever after in a fairytale,
In those tales for my three A.M. kid,
In those stories for my four A.M. demons,
In those lullabies for my five A.M. drowsy eyes.
She is my sushi.
She is my ‘one eyelash – one wish’.
She is my 11:11 ‘Wish, please come true’.
She is my cigarette.
Here’s the ******* problem.
I’m addicted.
And she’s my nicotine patch.”

you’re like my own personal drug
my drug of choice ranges from
rolling you up like a joint

to snorting you like coke
or shooting you up like ******
and sometimes popping you
like a xanax

to even placing
you on my tongue
like a tab of acid

and when i’m without you
I get horrible withdrawals
i cry myself to sleep sometimes

i have to be with you at all times
or else i’ll go crazy you make me
forget all the bad things you make
me feel something like i’m wanted

i’m addicted to you

my heavy heart,

its fading heartbeat

the blood in my veins

slowly,

it bleaches


the color of my tears,

Are they pure?

or disgraceful?

I feel them cold,

running along my broken smile


Is it okay to cry?

It is okay to cry

Happy or sad?

I am glad I drowned my demons

but they were my only family

I am an addict
And it is so real
I am an addict
And they think it is bad

Little do they know
It is the last thing I feel
Little do they know
I am addicted to sad

Oh, how I miss you playful love.
I've traveled far from the ports of conventional comfort to dive back into the wild in search of you.

I am shamelessly an addict under your spell.
My tolerance has risen & I now require a much stronger dose.
Anything less will just not do.

I need to be fully intoxicated by your words, by your touch, by the small moments that illuminate the shine of the stars veiled above & that sweeten red wine.

Oh, how you have made me so dependent on your rose smoke.
I have turned into nothing more than a fiend, aching to be enveloped by those 3 notorious words.

- Josephine M. Zeceña

She is destructive.
Her smoky tail curves and curls around you,
Whipping her deadly gases about.

She breathes out a swirling rainbow
That seems to drown out anything else.
Her breath fades into a deep blackness that consumes everything in sight.

The tar on her skin drips from her tear ducts
and falls upon the ground, sizzling and creating voids
On every inch of free space.

How ugly she is,
And yet she entices you.
How long have you been her entrapped prisoner?
How long have you been chasing after her?

Never love your captor,
Never chase the destruction.
Never say the fire warms you
When I can so clearly see the burns on your skin.
Never say the blade is dull
When you have blood dripping from your wounds.
Never tell me that White Demon has no grip on your forearm,
When I will watch you dragged through mud and blackness
At the cruelty of her hands,
Blindly and unknowing.

How long have you lusted for the White Demon?