The Problem With My Diagnose... by A.R.C. (best smutty novels .txt) 📕

WANTED.

Help that has the ears for listening,
the mind for better judgement,
and at least half a heart to care.
Hello, my name is Alisha and I'm
addicted to my first love.

Dear "Prescriber Doc",

I got the case of the B.Halls running
through my system; highly intoxicated,
his scent lingers behind and clings invisibly
onto my memories; I don't give up inhaling.
So easily I slip into an overdose where I'm
on a natural high from his touch that seeps
in and continues to spread.

Dear "Make-me-at-ease Doc",

He had asked me to keep him company one summer's night. The room was darken soft
and still spoken with only the Quiet Storm
hour playing the slow jams; A light peeps through the window and now the spotlight
was on us.
Just us two, ready to go along with the
performance we both knew too well together.
I laid my head on his chest and for the
first time, I heard that heart of his.
I laid there listening to it beat, trying
to figure out how could I win it back.
I felt his hand stroke my back and his
body turned up its own heat. I found
it comforting and became immune to the
feeling of being burned by him more than
once. For that moment I was convinced
that this was the experience Bella had
to have felt when she was with Jacob.
It was a quiet moment...a moment I took
in and never let go...

Dear "Doc For The Crazies",

I'm beginning to *hullucinate. I'm, standing
at the top of a rocky cliff where the winds
are like complete strangers that blows cold
right through you and the 1,000 ft. drop
is an *accompliss to the crashing waves
that doesn't care less.
Looks to be another eye of a storm of
another heart break...he lets me know
where we stand...
Each harsh word he throws at me pushes
me closer the edge till I feel myself
falling. I shatter into million pieces
from the rocks failed to break my fall.
When I do find myself again, I collect
the pieces and put myself back together
poorly with the cracks exposed.
I get the strength to climb up-he adds two more feet of stone to that heart of his
each time I fall.
By the time I reach the top, he would already
flown the coop and I would still wonder
around trying to find a soft spot to plant myself in so by the time when he feels the
need to come back, I would be already grown
and ready-ready to hear him say "You're. My.
Lady"...

To Whom This May Concern:

This is my last attempt to ask for help. It appears that I'm just wasting time on your time to fix me. But thanks for listening-I think I'm better now...

Publication Date: 12-19-2010

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