My sardonic infatuation*

Today I feel like a drug addict who has just quit sniffing.
My body aches and hurts.
I have chills of cold rushing from my back to toes.
Today I decided to quit on him.
Will you scratch my back one last time?
I crave hallucinations
And sonar blow jobs
I long for the sound of him, inhaling, exhaling my poison.

Today I went to work naked.
The ashes all over my desk hypnotized my thoughts.
The gazes of people around me did not stir my self-consciousness.
I saw him in my drawer, in my cup of coffee and on my shelf.
Come take me out of here.
Somewhere, anywhere, I don’t care.
His ghost is worse than my drugs.

Pieces of me*