You are a drug, an addiction,

with or without, there is some friction.

Your absence pricks me hard,

but your presence brings out my guard.

I don’t know what to feel,

because there are wounds that haven’t yet healed.

The elation of having you around

is shadowed by the past that still hounds.

I’m restless, I can’t find any peace,

You bring about worries that refuse to cease.

All this is not a blame,

but things somehow aren’t the same.

You’ve become a drug, an addiction,

with or without, there is some friction.

I need a release, some fresh air,

too gripping is my mind’s snare

The past makes me sad,

the anxiety about the future drives me mad.

Stuck I’m in the present thus,

my mind creating a humongous fuss.

You’ve become a drug, an addiction,

with or without, there is some friction.

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