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You were my drug, you were my high.
Too many nights I have explored the possibility that what we shared could have been a dream.
Addiction, was probably the word to describe my compliance towards you.
You became an inhibition, my fear; an achilles' heel.
I attempted to disperse my feelings then, and still contain, now that you are gone.
We lived together, in harmony, in conspicuity, living off the feeling of our companionship, that the word "love" could not begin to encompass.
Gazing upon the mirror reveals I am pained, anguished, and impoverished.
Raped by your anger, which was shown only to me, as if the fault was mine.
Your apprenhension preceded your purpose, in that arguement.
That arguement that left tears, that left scars, across my wrists and forearms.
Your soul collapsed in a fury and foretold of a story, a story of a being I was once so connected to, so emotionally, physically, and passionately linked to, had these same feelings I portrayed, I felt; for someone else.
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