Addiction

by dbdevilliers

Late-stage, hopeless, dehumanizing
addiction
is the ugliest thing
I’ve seen
or can conceive.
Bright-eyed, awestruck, newfound
addiction
however
is the
saddest.

To meet eyes,
know,
to understand
to grieve for what they’ve yet to see
and can’t conceive
since at the start, it’s merely harmless,
innocent
bliss.
Then that moment peaks and passes—
Christ, does it go fast—
and by the time they see
what’s happening,
it’s long past way
too fucking
late.

To meet those eyes
might well kill me.

It’s an awful thing.