The Sun and Her Flowers

i tried to leave many times but
as soon as i got away
my lungs buckled under the pressure
panting for air i'd return
perhaps this is why i let you
skin me to the bone
something
was better than nothing
having you touch me
even if it was not kind
was better than not having your hands at all
i could take the abuse
i could not take the absence
iknew i was beating a dead thing
but did it matter
if the thing was dead
when at the very least
i had it

— addiction