She needed to feel wanted.
Like the air she needed to live and breath.
She needed another hit, another man, another high.
She needed to feed her intoxicating longing to use and be used.
Flesh for flesh.
Like nameless, faceless toys bound simply by the way they fit,
She hates what she has become.
Choosing to be used.
Looking for it.
Going after those she knows will take
It hurts too much to love and be loved.
You’ll find no souls here.
A welcome mat for those
lost to a LIE.
© KP at Slaying the Embers