I needed you everyday,
It is after all the addicts way.
And I’m addicted.

Staying up at night,
Unable to block out thoughts of the next delight.
Shaking and cold and craving.

But I’m no longer allowed you.
Oh , but how my hunger grew.
I’m craving in desperation.

I’m so used to your high.
But now I’m wondering why
I became so desensitized.

And then I remembered
The pain, the anxiety; you censored.
You became my escape.

You were my high when I was low,
The calm when I needed simpatico.
And I became reliant.

But you were destroying me in ways I didn’t realize.
I always reasoned; there’s always the risk of a comedown for a few highs.
And now you’re gone.

I’m coming down and drowning.
A bird with a broken wing.
No longer able to sing.

I need my next hit.
But my drug of choice was always you.


The Ocean

He was like the ocean.
So calming.
So beautiful.

Each breath in and out
like the dependable tide.
In him I wanted to hide.

He was never-ending.
He was limitless.
It was crystal clear.

But then the sea turned dark.
And I remembered,
He was like the ocean.

So mysterious.
So immense.
So destructive.

That’s when the sea split before me,
Our boats rocked by the current, separated.
His heart to be vacated.

He was like the ocean.
And I drifted endlessly on him,
Not knowing I’d already drowned.



What is a girl to do
when she becomes but a number?
A notch on the bed post?
Oh! what a host!

Host? Host! Yes that’s what I said,
oh I’m sorry did you want your name mentioned
on the basis we shared a moment,
a moment in bed?

Well, respect goes two ways,
‘Just like her legs’
But no respect here was given,
So no, you’re not forgiven.

Dirty? Dirty! Yes that’s how I feel,
used and abused to give you a thrill.
I cannot begin to wrap my head
around something so utterly surreal.

So I hope that you wrote it all in detail
in that little black book.
I hope you got every little detail noted,
Because it’s all you’ll have now I’m no longer devoted.

A Choice

I try not to hate you,
for your way with words.
How they take flight from your mouth,
like a flock of birds.

But when the silence starts,
this feeling seems worse.
My fingers are shaking and my heart it is racing,
It feels to me like it is a curse.

For what do you do,
when you just want some space?
Yet you don’t want to lose,
his smiling face.

For a bit of time alone,
you would not abuse.
But in the end,
You have got him to lose.

So choose?