I have heard of the horror stories
Of those who were just trying to break free
From those addictions
That had drained their host for so long.
Never believing I could be one of those pale, hollow bodies
Until it was 4 am,
And a text from you
Has yet to darken my home screen.
Tremors quaked through my limbs.
Not even my pleading mind could stop
The seismic waves created by
The heart of a lonely soul.
I needed my fix.
My stomach cried as it demanded to be drained
Even though its argument with Mind
Had already left it very empty.
It refused to be silent.
Anything to relieve the pain.
Mind is perhaps the loudest in this catastrophic event.
Altered happy memories are shown as a movie marathon;
The insults were merely commercial breaks.
However, the toxicity and the fights were hidden behind the stage curtains.
A second of weakness is all it takes.
As the phone’s dial tone ends,
A sleepy “hello” flows out of your mouth
And into my vein...
Quiet.
Then compete and utter bliss.
