She is a drug. She is toxic. She does things to me that shouldn't be done.
Weaning myself off of her is going to make me cry. It'll make me sick, it'll make me want to run and hide and go find her again.
I will be better, though, as soon as I have detoxified her from my system.
She is a drug. She made me feel good, but she is no remedy, and she is no good thing. She would rip me apart from the inside.
It's going to hurt to be away from her and it's going to hurt to stop talking to her, but the addiction will subside if I stay strong.
I've got to let her go for the sake of my own happiness.
YOU ARE READING
her revelation (journal entries)
Poetryjournal entries containing poetry and thoughts about all three people i've been in love with, along with some traumas and self-loathing sprinkled in-between.
