It is the addiction that crave.
When I love someone it consumes me.
Staying up all night talking
I want to know more, more.
I am good at beginnings.
Intriguing, inquisitive, charming, sexy.
It’s the middle and ends that I struggle with.
Grasping to every word, uncomfortable with the space developing.
Why haven’t I heard from you, whats happening in your head?
It’s that consumption that drives my insecurities.
Making me the worst version of myself.
No longer am I mysterious, no longer am I cool.
I transform into a sad, big eyed thing
looking for any form of interest to hold on to.
The beginnings though, boy I am good at the beginnings.