Recovery
Frantic jolts
of adrenaline
mask my symptoms when
I see
you,
and fix
the sickness of withdrawl
I've carried around for days
like a heavy sob.
I smell your sweat
sticking to my cilia...
resting on my teeth like lust,
feeding this sweet sour addiction.
Authenticating who I am.
poem by Sara Fielder
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.