Bad Habit Poem by Kewayne Wadley

Bad Habit



She was my bad habit, an addiction that went without measurement.
The many times I've felt myself with her.
The cold sweats I've felt myself miss her.
The times I've felt that I was missing out.
I needed her then and there.
Constantly searching.
I had no shame attempting to purposely overdose.
Knowing that she'd always be there.
My addiction.
Feeding my every desire.
Lacing bits of her in everything that I did.
My bad habit.
There wasn't a sense of pride when it came to her.
Giving my last everything.
Just to feel close to her

Monday, February 6, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: addiction,for her,infatuation
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Kewayne Wadley

Kewayne Wadley

Groton, Connecticutt
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