addiction reccovery

I am in love with you like 

an addict is in love with heroin-

I am willing to give up my life 

for a few minutes of relief,

and you will give me nothing

but scars, tremors, and a chance

of dying lonely in a bathroom. 

You are as comforting as a syringe,

one filled with blissful poison, 

and I am sad to say that is all I need. 

A prick, a sting, a devastating life choice

you destroy me and I am aware-

I made the choice to run to you,

to need you like oxygen. 

You are delectable and unholy,

like a taste of nectar passing 

between my lips, yet it smells metallic,

bloody and sinful to the core. 

You asked me to sign your contract,

to hand my life over through the fine print,

and I scratched my name into the 

parchment, blood dried under my nails.

What a curse it is to love and desire you

with such an intensity;

to let you wreak havoc upon my mind 

and carve your ownership into my heart. 

I leave my chest open and bleeding, 

needles stabbed deep Into my inner elbow 

as I beg you for more. 

This is beyond medical malpractice,

I wrote your false doctor license, 

I stole the coat for you, I committed 

the crime of forgery so I could feign 

innocence when you finally kill me.

I attend this meeting with so-called 

anonymity, yet I see myself in every person

and they see themselves in me. 

We all know each other because we

all have sought rehab in the form of

broken bottles and broken promises-

in assurances we each know is 

nothing but ice to our sore skin. 

I am waiting for you to pick me up

from this assembly, and to drop me

back on my head. I am waiting to hurt 

for you again but I don’t think I ever stopped. 

I know this doesn’t seem like 

a recovery poem, but I swear I am 

getting better, in some way. 

My fingernails are clean,

and my love doesn’t taste 

like blood anymore.