What a strange feeling it is, this platonic love.

Fifty milligrams. Just fifty milligrams. (I'm in a much better place than when I wrote this)

Out of sight, out of mind. Once she has left your vision, she ceases to exist.

"She loves control" a poem I wrote in a twenty minute free form manner. I put pen to paper and let my words pour onto the pages, and exposed my deepest vulnerability to you. I hope you enjoy.