Dependency, you’re the neon in my veins,
a flicker that keeps me crawling back through rain.
I chew the shadows of your name at 3 a.m.,
spit sparks at the ceiling—still you bend the flame again.
Every vein’s a freeway for your sighs,
white-line fever in the tunnels of your eyes.
I kick, I claw, I promise cold-turkey skies,
but the needle of your silence never lies.
Hook me, crook me, let the withdrawal start—
I overdose on maybe, jonesing for your heart.