Withdrawal is a sick fuck.
It makes you realise how
dependent you were
on a thing to bring you:
comfort,
happiness,
okayness.
When I withdrew from you,
I spent a month in bed–
broken and dishevelled,
hopeless and in despair.
My heart felt empty,
my soul felt lonely,
and I was desperate
for just a taste–
of you.
But the month past,
and the last week flew,
and before I knew it
I was over you.
And just like now,
I’ve cold-turkey’d
the Ven-la-fax-ine.
Withdrawal is a sick fuck,
but this time there is no
broken heart,
nor is there a lonely soul;
Just incessant nausea,
fatigue,
vertigo.
But if I could withstand
the withdrawal from you,
then I sure as hell
can get through this too.
– Leonie Sii
