Addict

I'm a recovering addict, no it wasn't drugs or alcohol. It was you. A man who doesn't know how to love right, quite the substance abuse, you were fucking poison. The scars on my mind never faded, even if you were gone. They left scars on my mind like an annoying little bug that you can't quite catch to kill. The pain, oh god the pain. Is this why I crave such intamacy? Afraid of a man who raises his voice at me. Afraid of the next time I'll be sitting with a man cuddling just for him to get up and use the restroom meanwhile I wonder where I went wrong? It's easy for you to forget about me but it's hard for me to forget about you when I hear all of our favorite songs on my playlist, or when I have the feeling of absence crossing over me. It fucking hard to forget. When a girl becomes a toy but doesn't have any use anymore so he picks another girl to gain back what he had with you. Every time we fought I gained that tolerance, I learned to just accept it and gain the reward of attention for it. Beating me down until I cried for hours and then kissing and giving me hugs the next day gave me the new high. The high of feeling wanted, loved, attended to. And you knew I'd never leave because I was addicted to you, and