34

 

34

the number i see when you come around 

pounds the alarm in my head to release dopamine’s 

its crazy because this actually feels like a drug

im the fiend 

my guardian angels always sending messages 

telling me

that what im feeling is true

how can this be 

before i go off

and before like takes me where it wants

i want to be with you again

just for a moment so i can get my fix

so i’ll stop all the lies if you promise 

to give me my drug

this addiction

will hopefully turn out with me living 

and not far away somewhere 

i guess if this isn’t true 

i hope i still see what i see now

more, of

34

This poem is about: 
Me

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