Methadone

a poem about being addicted to a love that seems to be less than good for me

You are my heroin
Quick wit stick like a needle in my arm
Boiled to a point of bubbling
Injected deep into my soul
Burning all the way through
I need a methadone
You are my heroin
You’ve left me twitching and tweaking
Begging for a fix
I’m turning all night
Sleep sleepless, rest full of unrest
I need a methadone
You are my heroin
I miss feeling
I scratch itches unsatisfied
Lives feeling unlinked
I miss touch
I need a methadone
You are my heroin
Feeling slow and low
Under and down
No high associated with this ride
I’m ready for the methadone.