I feed my disease, with love and understanding.
HUGS, not drugs!
Surely, it is well on it's way to killing me. I'm not so far gone, as to let a "Plain as the nose on your face", fact like that, slip by me.
See... it has become a part of me.
It wears a mask of love, not to deceive, but to soften it's hideous, crippled appearance.
Out of shame, not malicious intent.
I know it's just need.
When it has burned out, I'll be left a husk.
Still...
It's nice to be needed. |
Submission Name: Symbiosis
