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Addiction # 2

I miss those limber limbs,
those loping lithe limbs,
those tumbling twirling
wings.
I miss the sensation that we were invincible,
and yet those mornings were terrible,
The first addiction ever,
but we just couldn’t stop.
We are/were/is/am/forever addicted to friendship
the hardship kind.
Were I was the monster and you were the rhyme
and now we are a hashing out of unhappy habits
and I just happened to hop out of it in time.
But I can see you drowning in those syrupy sugars
fermented into wine,
and the broken heart rotting
under the bruises.
Who loses in friendship
when the ship is sinking?

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