Sometimes I wonder if I’m your addiction.
When you call me drunk and giggling
or when you’re still
coming up on your high,
maybe just reaching the peak.
Do you call me because I, too, get you tipsy?
Lifted?
Does the thought of me scurry
across your mind when you hit bliss?
Do you need a drag of
me to achieve your ultimate high?
•❋•
You’re my 4 in the morning.
My “up all night.” The
reason I stay awake counting
the stars and my
heartbeats. You’re the
spots that I see,
the shadows that I see,
when it’s running on day two and
I still haven’t had
a wink of sleep.
You’re every insomniac’s dream.
I wrote this when I was 17 for the boy who would come back to me every summer.