I analyze your every detail and dissect you into tiny little pieces,
I fed on each one of them for months.
Sometimes I hide them in the deepest, darkest corners of my mind and take them out when days like December arrive.
I drink your sweet words benignly like the rest of my medication,
with lunch, before I go to sleep and after I wake up.
In a mad world, I lost control over my prescribed dosage of you.
I take what I need to survive.