Addicted to People

There are lots of things to get addicted to in this world.
I leave most of them alone, but people...you can't leave people alone forever.

And you can get addicted to them.  I do.
They get under my skin and in my heart and in my head.
I see the color of their eyes and hear the sound of their voice and see the way they smile.

People are a tragic thing to be addicted to- a dangerous thing to crave.

Because even after I cut them out, I go through withdrawal and I want them no matter how much it might hurt me.

They used to wind me up and watch me spin out so -snip- they're gone like a loose string on a cardigan.
And then I crave the late nights, I miss the laughter, I want the bad decisions.

He put his hooks in me and didn't care how much it hurt or how much the blood pooled as I tore them out.
And then I crave his voice, I miss the feelings, I want him.

They left me, on my birthday alone at the top of the ferris wheel so I slipped away silently and no one noticed.
And then I crave the society, I miss the crowd, I want the past back.

He looks like all my past bad decisions with softer corners and dull edges and all of him screams danger.
And then I crave his attention, I miss the danger, I want the regret.

I crave people the way others crave cigarettes or whiskey or oblivion.

Even the people who hurt me come back to haunt my dreams and part of me, that broken sick part, wants them back no matter what the cost.

I'm so addicted to people that when I pull away from them, it makes my hands shake and it makes me cry and it makes me sick.
It tore my life open, that addiction, and it's not the same as drugs or alcohol, but it ruined me anyway.
I'm recovering, learning how to pull away, learning how to live without, learning how to choose healthy instead of danger.

But on mornings when the fog hangs low and my dreams are thicker than syrup and my head is full of wishes and wants, the need is hard to shake. 
So I settle for imagination and for pretending things turned out different and for stories on paper where I can satiate the cravings without really hurting myself.