"My Dearest Addiction" by Peter Picard
My dearest addiction,
Oh, if I would only put reins on you! How you have driven me from place to place. Up all night no time to say Grace. And he says without complement. What’s next? What’s next? This project. That project. This book. That book. Your book. Their books!
More and more like a high tide that never completes. Waves that rise up and come up and up until arms and legs are shaking weak and then they fall and there are no more wings now to hold me up. The addiction has ripped them off and so I look down and my addiction has no reins and I crash and cannot rise. Because the addiction is now too heavy and I must sleep far away from what I am addicted to...work.
So now there are bars between my addiction and me.