Love Was Every Drug Poem by Lacie Hebert

Love was whiskey, slow and warm, 
A shelter from a passing storm.
It burned my throat, then eased my mind, 
And left good judgment far behind.

Love was nicotine at dawn, 
A habit even after gone.
I swore each night I'd finally quit, 
Then woke up craving just one hit.

Love was caffeine in my veins, 
A racing heart, electric pains.
You kept me wired through the night, 
Too restless ever to feel right.

Love was morphine, soft and sweet, 
A temporary, false retreat.
You numbed the places hurt had grown, 
Then left me aching and alone.

Love was cocaine, fast and bright, 
A burst of stars, a flash of light.
For one brief hour I touched the sky, 
Then crashed so hard I thought I'd die.

Love was heroin's embrace, 
A velvet darkness, slow-paced grace.
The kind of peace that steals your will, 
And leaves your soul completely still.

Love was ecstasy at best, 
A beating drum inside my chest.
The world seemed made of neon skies, 
And every dream looked twice its size.

Love was LSD at night, 
A warped and dizzying delight.
You changed the shape of what was true, 
Till I could not distinguish you.

Love was cannabis in June, 
A lazy afternoon too soon.
The worries faded for a while, 
Beneath the comfort of your smile.

Love was ketamine somehow, 
A distant place, a fading now.
I watched myself from far away, 
And lost more pieces every day.

Love was a sleeping pill at three, 
When all the world abandoned me.
You quieted the noise and fear, 
But left me weaker year by year.

Love was adrenaline in rain, 
A thrilling, reckless kind of pain.
The danger only fed the spark, 
That kept me running through the dark.

Love was sugar on my tongue, 
The sweetest song I'd ever sung.
But every feast has its regret, 
And every high collects a debt.

Love was medicine and curse, 
The very best, the very worst.
A cure that somehow made me sick, 
A wound that felt impossible to fix.

I chased your highs through every season, 
Ignored my heart, ignored my reason.
Convinced the rush was worth the cost, 
Long after I had become lost.

Then one day, standing in the rain, 
I felt the absence of the pain.
No shaking hands. No desperate plea.
No need for you to rescue me.

And that's the thing I've come to know, 
About the strongest drugs below:
The hardest part is not the fall, 
Or learning how to lose it all.

The hardest part is finally seeing
You were never what was healing.
Because real love does not enslave, 
Does not demand that you behave.

It doesn't leave you starved for air, 
Or wondering if it's even there.
So now when people speak your name, 
I do not feel that old flame.

I simply smile and think how strange—
The drug I feared I'd never leave
Became the thing I no longer need.