Like sleep to the freezing... Sweet and right and merciful

Fall always comes on to me like this. 

Damp chill and decay fills my airways, stirring up the tide and kicking up every leaf that settles. 

I was born with this addicts heart. It thunders away in my chest making me want what I want what I want what I want until I have squeezed everything out of it and I am fully sickened once more with a longing for other.

More.

Better.

Different.

New.

And how I want that affliction. And how I want to be agonized. And how I want some yearning to tear me apart and leave me sick and breathless and up all night.

But ask me and I will say I sleep peacefully every night. 

Every addiction comes with its own set of rules. Its own book of lies. Its own sweet promise that guards the door to the truth.

Those sweet promises are so filling. So appetizing. I made a meal from them and fed willingly. Now all that surrounds me are these photographs. These snapshots of peaceful love, like some sepia-toned cameo that I keep clutched to my chest. Just some fantasy. Just to bolster me across this blood-stained beach. Just to get me to the other side. Just til the war is over. Everything you swore lies tucked inside and I squeeze it hard until it cuts into my hand. I squeeze everything out of it. It hangs from my neck full of every instance in which you pledged fidelity with eyes green from my disease.

Because you were born sick as me. We are the same species.

And if you ache for other...

More.

Better.

Different.

New.

Keep it quiet, love. 

Just til the war is over.