I like it when you hate it.
I want to give it up when it's mine.
I crave for it when I don't have it.
* * *
It still feels empty even if I am loaded. It's just not the same if it's not you I'm doing it with.
* * *
Dependence/Addiction
It was like venom creeping through my bloodstream.
Silently it swallowed me part by part.
The process was masked as something satisfying, something euphoric.
Next thing I knew I was wholly devoured.
Logic didn't work.
Now I suffer the consequences.
* * *
Am I just plain unfortunate?
Or is it the invisible hands of f*te responsible?
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