Lungs
They tell me my addition is ruining my body.
I’m putting toxic elements,
into the very thing that gives me life.
I ruin its only function.
They could be right, you know.
They are, in a lot of ways, correct.
But ruining my body isn’t my addiction.
My addiction is you, and many organs are targeted.
Sometimes, it’s my lungs. I can feel my breath hitch
and leave my body
not knowing how to make its way back,
to my poor lungs.
Sometimes, it’s my skin. Soft touches,
pink lips, forever being stained
with the mark of your
fingertips.
Sometimes, it’s my brain. Plagued with constant
thoughts and memories;
inescapable.
But most of the time, it’s my heart.
Uncomfortably sticky with glue,
trying to hold itself together,
Until it unsticks and falls apart again.
They tell me my addiction is ruining my life.
I’m putting toxic elements,
into the very thing I was put on earth for.
I ruin my ability to function,
fueling my addiction to you.
I Met a Girl
I met a girl.
She was an angel
incarnate. Beautiful as heaven,
like she was put on Earth to change it in some way.
A girl you wish you knew.
She makes me feel like I’m living,
in the singular moment of silence,
driving under a bridge when it’s pouring rain.
The kind that makes it feel easy to be alive,
Blonde but not blonde, golden like wheat,
She is the kind of girl you look for,
in every person you meet.
She is what makes the rain fall,
on a blistering day with only,
a dry mouth to soothe your tongue,
letting droplets fall on your forehead.
Smooth sounding, yet with rough cuts,
like an old cassette tape.
The kind your parents used to listen to.
Old and new all at the same time.
Detrimental to the universe.
Devastating to a heart.
The Bottom Shelf Review 
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