Purpose

You are my addiction,
in which I try my hardest to get as much of in my system at one time.
But what happens when your gone?
I will still feed off of you, all of you, suck in as much as I can, while you’re inside of me,
that addictive cocaine in you took hold of me.

You are my addiction.
My heart is racing as my stomach is aching from the phene you have made out of this addict.
You are my rough but fragile addiction.
Got my nose wide open and my eyes blood shot red after crying from your disappearance and remembering your hopeful scent.
You are an addict of my mind because you never stay off it.

You are my addiction. Point Blank.
I think of no other.
You are the infatuation of my soul.
The being of my essence.
The filling of my hearts hole.
The other half of my presence.
I am an addict and you will forever be my addiction.

Find away to keep my attention
is what an addiction does to make you feel all sorts of redemption.
Wanting to be attracted to your lengthy lines and particular verbs.
Let your ink climb on me, stretching its goals and combing my tears of spirit with its words.

You are my addiction.
The precision of descriptions and order of speech.
The crack of my heart where a thesaurus and dictionary meet. You are my love. You are my addiction.
You are Poetry.