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.


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