Girl
You better have sage on hand
Because I will haunt you
Until you come back for seconds
or fourteenths.
I will be the drug
You never knew you were addicted to.
You'll get those panic attacks
Late at night
Like former smokers get when they walk into
smoke-filled bars and smoke-shops.
You won't get by,
You'll need me
Crave me, even.
And I'll be in bed
Jerking off
Dying to be inside of you,
not knowing that I already am.
But I will haunt you.
That is certain,
unlike you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem