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addiction.
I've struggled with being an addict my whole life. From the tender age of thirteen, I found comfort with my demons, feeding them anything that would take the edge off of a bad day. I found a home in the destruction of heroin as I shot it into my veins, the rush of cocaine as I inhaled it up my nostrils, and the burn of nicotine as it filled my lungs. And for a while, I didn't want to leave.
I only recently got clean, and I had no intensions of going back to the life I once lived -
But then you kissed me, and suddenly I craved every ounce of your soul; I wanted to know the ins and outs of what makes you, you. What makes you tick, how you take your morning cup of coffee, where you go to clear your head. I haven’t stopped thinking about your hands on my waist, or your lips on my skin, or your fingers in my hair, or that stupid grin you pull when you get your way. How have I lived without them for so long?
I guess what they say is true -
once an addict, always an addict.
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