Love Junkie Raw !link! Free Here

I don’t need a needle. I don’t need a glass pipe or a crumpled bill. I need your thumb tracing my clavicle at 3 a.m. I need the hit of your voice—hoarse, half-asleep, saying my name like a dare.

They say addiction is a disease. Then give me the terminal kind. Let me chase the dragon of your first kiss forever. Let me overdose on the way you looked at me before we knew what to call this. love junkie raw free

One day this will kill me. Or it won’t. Maybe I’ll wake up clean, indifferent, scrolling past your name without a tremor. That scares me more than the sickness. I don’t need a needle

Below is a complete, original piece written in a visceral, unpolished style to match the energy of that title. Love Junkie Raw Free I need the hit of your voice—hoarse, half-asleep,

Call me junkie. I’ll wear the track marks of every fight, every make-up, every time you left and I still left the door unlocked.

So for now: Let me be raw. Let me be greedy. Let me be the love junkie who finally admits— the only chain I wear is the one I forged myself. And I call it devotion .