I could make an excuse
I could tell you no
I could ask you to stop,
but what fun would that be?
The only thing holding me back
is that damn voice; that damn tick
tic tick – the clicking, flicking light bulb.
It hurts. It’s good. It’s okay.
I’ll ask for more next time …
I won’t even hesitate. I won’t even cry.
The cries stopped long ago. They’re not mine.
They disappeared. They failed. So. What.
I gave in, I agreed to sin.
I cried then… now I just plead.
Need. It’s a need. I need it to plead.
It’s in want where I bleed.
Seductive addiction, fill me.
words: Jennifer Jackson Whitley, Georgia (Spilt Milk)
image: 'The Bow' - Karyn Eisler, Canada (Living ?s) + about 'The Bow'
another blueprint of an addiction: tug and maul (#20)