My soul drunk distance from a silver cup, until every drop was memorized.
Distance was an addiction of mine.
And like every addict, you're not aware of it feeding on your thoughts, crawling in your veins, tainting your soul different shades of grey. Distance never mattered to me, it was like second skin. That was until I tasted you, a drug so refine, it merged with my core and made me a helpless addict to closeness. Unlike any other drug, you beheaded numbness with a guillotine of electrifying feelings. And when my dark, thick, blood turned into red, I knew I was witnessing the catharsis of my existence.