Each blink is too long and each beat is too much to cage and bare, so I shall rip off my eyelids to keep you in my sight’s a little longer and tear through my chest and place myself as a sacrifice to the goddess of my inner war. My lips become unworked and dry without your pressure and I wonder and pace in circles to this addiction called you, your essence or smoke clings to my lungs, I know each inhale is deadly but the remembrance will one day be my murderer. I know you have found your feet and walked the ground you stood on but you left a blood-trail when you drove your hand through my ribs, clasped your fingers around my heart and dragged it off to the unknown, thank you. I have tried to rip and burn the photographs of you but your witchcrafting spells are protection against your stillness towards the weak. It feels as if I am chained to a monstrous mountains peak of snow and I am kneeling at its feet, tortured to watch the skies clouds that have now been replaced with images of our better times and precious seconds. There was no Cupid with a bow and arrow only a silent thief with a dagger. No medical diagnosis or prescription to help me now, the only answer it to go cold turkey, the oldest of remedies and cures but it will surely almost destroy me as you have ripped out my insides, cooked them and now I am ready to carve. The thought of you make me throw-up, not in a sickening way to your portrait but fear, anxiety, frustration and anger, those are the invisible fingers down my throat.
Thank you, Love.