Addiction
- The Feminist Times
- May 29, 2021
- 1 min read
He was addicted to euphoric state
I was addicted to His euphoric state
On the days he would be silent
I would spend the night wondering
When would he make any utterance
On the days he would come early
I would curl up in my bed sooner
If I ever found the bottle full
I would often end up wondering
How different it would be
If he was sober, not dysfunctional
The days he would talk to me
Were the days I would wail the most
I would no longer wait for his arrival
His departure would give me joy
The thought of looking in his eye
Would send chills down my spine
His outbursts were no longer scary
I was just exhausted to feel them again
He was addicted to his denial
I was addicted to seeing him suffer
He was addicted to escaping issues
I was addicted to wailing every night
- Aayushi Mittal
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