Addictive. (poem)

you once called me “addictive”


like you’re a bee, and I’m pollen from a flower.

like you’re the sun, and I’m dying grass.

like you’re helpless, and I am your medicine.

but you’re an addict.

and I am your substance.

but you only liked what I provided to you,

how I made you feel,

how you couldn’t get it out of your head.

did you ever really love me?

like you said?

or did you love how I was your substance?

you made me feel worthless.

like I was only yours because you wanted something.

you wanted something other than me.

you wanted to feel something.

while you made me feel nothing.

I wish you could love me, the way you used to —

while being sober.

because I don’t like addicts,

and I don’t want to be your substance.


I just want you to love me.

I hope you find happiness,

in something other than a substance.

envelope yourself in happiness.

not within what another gives you.

just remember I love you,

even though you don’t love me anymore.