Coffee Stains and Bloodstains: A Poem of Addiction and Love

I feel like an addict. 
I whispered as I fell asleep by myself
Waking up in shivers and zero responses to my pleading for help.
I’m normal, I’m honest
Sitting beside a two-week headache and a toilet of vomit
Telling my Tylenol I’ll be back before dawn.
Another broken statement soaking in promise.
My mind’s a loitering bomb, the hopeless subconscious.
My most genuine curse is never being sorely immodest.
You make me trust, and make me love

you

Wrap your arms around my kudzu
My battle armor cast in blood, the vagabond of listless lust.
You’re
the art of war to my Sun Tzu
Dragging on, my past is gone. Just catacomb the ambiance
Grabbing on to massive oars to run across the transient.
Summer’s dawn is halcyon.
A cup of coffee. 
Allocate the demitasse, and pillow talk your champion.
Touching softly. Rugged often, my flesh peels off when I’m around

you.

Come with trigger warnings, and oxytocin.
Purple-flavored dulcet moans, Coach your climax until you’re gone. 
We left our mantras and conscious open
Erotica, the constant dosage Our Jupiter’s and Venus forged
Carbon copy, and common stories
Almost called derogatory hear the demons speaking for me. We want peace, and peace and glory
But what brought peace is knowing
Thieves only steal things worth hoarding.
The mana source. The chakra pouring. Muladhara.
I want more. Kehlani to your body.
Roar growling and the sounds explored.
You look good on paper, and good in person.
My only failure is mine alone.
Flushing out the ill-behavior.
To amputate and cut off the source.
This faucet drain pumps blood no more.

It’s just stained.