I am addicted

 Addiction. 

 I am addicted. To his love. To the pain. To coffee. To books. I am addicted. 

 His love. He treats me well. I love his eyes, his voice, the way he holds up all the pain, the way he loves me. His love  it's addicting, he treats everything with a determined way he doesn't back down he doesn't say no, unless it's pain towards myself. 

 The pain.  It welcomes me like an old friend. The feel of the blade as it takes into my skin telling me it's okay. I never felt so alive as when I do when the pain comes. He tells me to stop but how can I resist the addiction the pullof the feeling of being alive. How can I stop?

Caffeine. The energy it releases a calms the neurons firing in my brain. Only the caffeine can stop the voices, the ADD,  The ADHD, everything in my head. 

The books.  I can escape to a new world within the pages.  I can be a princess, a warrior, determined, no buddy, everything, that I wish to be. It doesn't matter who I am right now or today I am who I am in those books because that is what the author writes. 

I am fully and wholly addicted. And sometimes, that's okay. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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