SED*8 Magazine

WORDS// Nicole Charles

You make me stink of aromas that remind me of exactly how weak I am,

You’ve manipulated my senses to bring me to the consensuses I’m senseless without you.

When I lay my head to rest I crave you in my bed I crave you in side of me,

You consume a with desire that tightens my chest and yet I abreast you,

I reach out my hand time and time again, and every time I grant you time I wish I could turn back the hands of time to that time I didn’t need you, to that time I didn’t, rely on you,

You’re killing me with your love and yet my body screams for your touch, that gentle elevating, steaming, exuberating touch

I inhale your negativity because you console my insecurities; you secure me with your smell,

You know what I’m saying without me saying a thing it’s our understanding,

I call a shotter on someones phone that ain’t my own

‘cause I only got £10 for a cockle of dro and I’m pay as you go so, you know I’ll always find a way for you to stay in my body for month.

To give me high blood pressure, paranoid schizophrenia, lung cancer, not tomention, dry mouth, munchies and the inability to even speak.

Somehow I find the money for you, even when I can’t afford to get on the tube,

but I ain’t a crack head,

I ain’t an addict

Weed is righteous!?!