You
are my addiction
My
alcohol
My
gambling debt
My
third pint of Ben & Jerry’s after a large meat lover’s pizza.
It
would be so much easier if you were one of those inanimate objects.
Vodka
doesn’t drink me in with sexy brown eyes
Slot
machines don’t make my head spin with lust
And
food never crawls from the plate into my lap,
engulfing
me in its heat, tasting my neck.
But
you do.
You
are a vortex of sex and skin and mind-numbing beauty
Everything
inside me rattles and breaks against your pull
The
last remaining crumbs of common sense become
A
dust cloud around my head.
Self
control groans and splinters through clenched fists.
In
my chest fractured fidelity holds tight,
even
though I declared it exempt from these situations.
A
broken dial that was once a moral compass,
spins
wildly like a pinwheel in this storm.
And
I welcome it.
We all have to die
sometime.
All
of it.
This would be a good
way to go.
It
feels incredible.
Even though I know
I’m going to crash, I’ll get this high again.
Exhilarating.
You assault all my
senses and my life shatters around me.
I
want it.
It’s all part of the
package.
You
are more than a thrill ride,
You
are a guesstimated length of bungie cord.
You
are a poorly packed parachute.
You
are Russian roulette with three rounds in the chamber.
You
are my addiction.
***
Jay DeFazio is an artist from the Greater Cincinnati area,
where she lives with her on-again-off-again partner of 20 years, Sobriety.
