Dear me. In the midst of all this chemical torment, I somehow managed to be in love. I do remember that Bops and I once talked about (well, argued about) how our love was really a threesome - it was not just him and me, it was him, me and smack. And yes, it really was. With both of us feeling resentful and jealous when the other would make smack a priority over us. All quite dark and depressing, but fortunately memory is a hazy thing. Which might explain why this poem is so over the top. Oh well. Teenage love. My "first". I'm far too cynical about "love" now, but this is what I made of it back then. Of course, now I see it as immature and exceedingly emotionally unhealthy, and anything BUT love. Obsession, maybe. Infatuation, for sure. But I don't think this poem describes true love. Today this poem just shows me how empty I was inside, if it took another person to bring these things to life for me.
Without you life is not life
You give my sunsets their glow
You give my stars their sparkle
You give my afternoons their lazy warmth
My twilights their tender chill
You give my dawns their hope,
carried on fresh breeze
You give my nights their passion and dreams
You give my life its meaning
You give me a reason to live.
Written in September 1986
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