If only more would deem their healthy "needs" and fulfillment of same as habit-worthy. Most rely far too much on "want" retiring their innate drives to a grave before they've even had their backside slapped and experienced that first, "Wah! Ah hah. So this is what it's all about." As usual, your imaging and double entendre talent is exemplary.

Addiction, does everyone have one? You make us think Kate with this fine poem.

There are many kinds of addictions; your verses elicit thoughtful reflection and empathy as well, Kate. Thank you. Love and best wishes,

Regis

It's a lonely world out there made worse by isolationist choices. Patrick

tis' the season for comfort and joy....perpetually. This could apply to a lot of addictions......very good. enjoyed! ~ Morgan

love that song! - this reads like a confession

A wonderfully compassionate poem with true sensitivity and empathy!
The imagery you have painted in my mind with these verses will long remain ~ xx

The final stanza confuzzles my Pooh brain.
Unless it means the love of drug. And love is the drug I'm thinking of... As I don't know what it is but I'm addicted to lurve. Cor:13

Sometimes your work is a conundrum that is beyond my intellect.

Kate one of my favorite songs by the Black Crowes!
This song kinda reminds me of the old Bob Dylan days...
Your poem, brings up like Jude says, addiction to love that so many of us have. I love being in love, am I addicted or is it just a long formed habit..not really a question, but a quiery into my deepest thoughts...I believe that if you have an addiction what's so wrong with being addicted to love???lol

As always your poetry is mind bending and thought provoking to me.

Much peace, love and light,
Amber

hmm, can love be an addiction or a habit? i wonder ... i guess it is ... it can be a compulsion, a need, a dependence, an obsession, craving, and certainly an infatuation ... hope is an avenue to recovery, that is, if one really wants to ;)

I feel they perceive some need to escape from the harshness of reality -- searching for a new comfort zone, a security blanket -- so they find their friend in a phial -- tarry black a soothing rush of contentment until the twitches of addiction draw them back again and again -- frequency and dosages ever increasing -- by then a life has already been compromised or ruined and most relationships severed -- a terrible waste, a pity -- you mark the progress of addiction eloquently Kate, "the needle weeps one crocodile tear" is superb -- I bid you joy love and peace my dear friend -- Jon Michael

she’ll tell you she’s an orphan
After you meet her family

So sad, in so many ways.

So inescapeably sad, Kate. Your poem leads us into her world, and there is no real exit; we're trapped in there with her. "Savage grace", "bouquet of sweet pain", "tendrils unfurl[ing] through her trellis of veins"--they're all such beautiful words, so inviting, just like the liquid she injects. The false road signs, deadly disturbing at the end. --Charlie

"...this freefall of choice"
"...a one-way trip"
how well you grasp and communicate
this particular world;

one time in conversation with a heroin addict
he said, 'when i'm up, it's like being
wrapped head to toe in cotton wool.'

As always, Kate, quality in your every line.

John

There is a palpable melancholy feel to this piece. If only love could heal all hurts, all rejection, all fears and hopelessness... What a world it would be...
Abandonment or rejection has life long consequences and effects. I see that first-hand in my home on a daily basis. Hopefully, our love, and their eventual acceptance of it, will save our kids from going down this path.
Cryssa

Kate, And what a habit it is! I like your introduction
and ending-without someone loving them we all know it
could end badly.

Always,
Deborah