.....d

Sometimes I wonder
Is it consistency I miss
Or is it your kiss
Is it the way we lay
Exploring our minds in drug induced bliss
I dont miss the sickness
The way you couldnt stop
The way you made me feel like a mess
I remind myself often
Its not you who would soften
I took myself down
Each notch
but I couldn't reach my coffin
So instead I lay here and miss the way your eyes looked at me often

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

It sounds as though we are hearing an account of addiction here, but to whom or to what we cannot be sure. In the end, all addictions have a similarity. Liked the clarity, brevity and unique rhyming.