Addicted to him
I ponder on those memories that are meant to be tarnished, kept as distant memories.
I ponder on those memories with, fondness, with love, with heartache and with that smile
he used to say made his day plastered on my face every time.
My pride tells me that I can find someone better.
Someone I can love mentally and physically.

My heart tells me he is the one.
He is your first love.
He is your forever.
He says when he loves he loves hard.
Why didn’t he fight?
Why did I end it?
Does he want me?
Has he moved on?
Will I ever move on?

I distant myself from him, to build my barriers,
not with bricks but of steel.
Every-time.
Every-time he deteriorates my steel-based barriers.

I fight back but lose to what seems to be an effortless fight for him.
I try to kill it but he seems to be a healer because when I hear that silky velvet-like voice of his, I fall for him.
Harder than before.
When he says ‘baby’. ‘I love you’.

You would think those words meant for me but no.
My fragile heart doesn’t break but shatters to pieces instantly.
I want to fall hard for others but they can’t be compared to my Phytho ️.

I am addicted.
And like an addict, I can’t seem to gain control of this, of me, of my heart.
He has control of me and I dread it.
He will never know.
I am his but he isn’t mine.