Addicts Poem by francesca zumbo

All love is ironic
we fight and we plead
we beg for this so called need

we scream and we cry
we wonder Why
we feel empty, misused?

We become insomniacs
thinking of all the ways
to save him or her

we become poets,
writing letters forever
to a person who will never receive them

we merge with arms extended
to a person with whips in their eyes
we die and then become born again

we cut, we burn, we soar
i love you still forever more, forever more, forever more

we become addicts of repetition
with repeated sorry's and it wont happen again

whoever has more control wins
if i like you less you lose
if you don't love me i die.