Her name Is Addiction
and she’s staying with me
for the holidays.
“Dee,” we call her for short.
Dee slipped into
my life
right before Thanksgiving,
and now has taken over
every room of the house.
Dee doesn’t care
that I have kids,
or drive a car
or go to work.
She lives by her own impulses,
and makes demands
that must be met
any time
at any moment
of any day.
What would happen
If I said, “No” is not known,
as Dee is very persuasive,
often leaving me feeling sleepy,
and malleable just enough,
so that a boundary,
any boundary,
can be pushed with ease.
Dee knows her visit is mixed;
intense pleasure
alongside wrangled angst;
angst over my permissiveness,
my everything is okay-ness,
over admitting
that I enjoy Dee
and her presence,
no matter how much
she burn’s me out.
And that I let her
get away with more shit,
than any other being
I have in my life.
I hope I don’t see Dee again
for some time (undefined).
Her stay is not forever,
and even she will know
when that stay
has been out welcomed,
slipping away
in the same manner
as always;
slow, languid,
a heavy trail of essence,
fragrant in every room,
reminding me
that she has been here
or is coming
and that I better be ready.
April Aronoff
Photography By April Aronoff