For the love of loss

The way I breathe in your

essence,

your very being,

your state of matter —

That is different From it all,

It’s not like a drug —

It is a drug.

Potent and intoxicating,

beyond anything of mankind’s creation.

The addiction —

a high of surmountable levels.

The sky beneath my fingertips,

and the stars just above my head.

Even the burn of alcohol

is nothing compared —

the scorching blaze you alight in my soul.

You warm the depths of sin

with the heat of hellfire.

Help me, God.

The line I tread

is a delicate one.

So please, God, I beg you —

Break a bone of mine,

or even

tear open this mortal flesh.

But please…

The hurt of this ache

is unbearably painful —

salt upon an open wound,

while I pour down my throat as well,

hoping to numb