Life;
The easily foreseeable consequences knock.
Addiction is the hallmark of every, 
Infatuation-based-adore-story. 
Trouble begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady* 
Hallucinogenic dose of something you never dared to admit you wanted.
An emotional speedball of thunderous love and roiling excitement.
Soon you start craving that intense attention,
With a hungry obsession of any kind.
When the "drug" is withheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy, and depleted.
Comes with lot of recentness
The dealer doesn't pony up the good stuff.
Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner.
The object of your adoration has now become repulsed by own-self.
The irony is you can hardly blame no one.
Pathetic mess,unrecognizable even to your own eyes.
The sarcasm of hurtful feelings.
The new club of life changing events.
Hits your infatuations final destination.
The complete and merciless devaluation of self.
The hipster trash of rewinding.
The need at least half to stand still,
Because it feels safer that way.
Want to take back the book of artsy photos,
And escape being an emotional zombie.