I was worried, she won’t be able to pull off this time.
I picked up the phone, I called;
It rang, she answered:
“…I am perfectly alright,” I heard her say.
“…No I don’t get addicted,” she hung.
The next day, I paid her a visit:
Burnt butts, crushed cans, cell phone, books all lay scattered.
“Won’t you ever stop worrying about me?” I heard her say.
She was about to say more when I cut,
“Are you sure you don’t get addicted?”
There was a sign of nonchalance in her voice and face.
I knew her well enough, I knew she was right
No intoxicant had the strength to win her mind.
Yet I knew she was addicted; to what she wouldn’t admit.
I knew it was the man she loves, but he didn’t.
I knew she wouldn’t accept it was he whom she missed.
But her heart knew well enough, she was his addict!!