Recovery

Frantic jolts
of adrenaline
mask my symptoms when

I see
you,

and fix

the sickness of withdrawl
I've carried around for days
like a heavy sob.

I smell your sweat
sticking to my cilia...

resting on my teeth like lust,
feeding this sweet sour addiction.

Authenticating who I am.

poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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