The Nature of Addiction


  1. Eyes: What once had been shining beacons of hope, vitality, and knowledge, deteriorated to shallow, bloodshoot pools- constantly flicking around in a frenzied manner, reminding me of sloshing puddles on a tempestuous day. Staring into the emptiness surrounded by tumultuous waves sent shivers down to my core, a whirlpool, the fragmented remains of windows to the soul.
  2. Ears: The weight of my words would strain not only my throat but also my soul, slivers slicing through me, bleeding, rupturing, words heavy in my heart. When gentle waves lapping at your edge were not enough, a hurricane of words were unleashed in an attempt to demolish your canals, paving the way for reason to come through. A thunderous barrage rained upon you, but none of it was heard. Perhaps you listened, but you did not hear the song of the storm.
  3. Nose: The crevasses of your nasal passage were like caves full of glittering, crystallized stalactites and stalagmites. Ah, but these were not crystals- rather, they were more like glass shards embedding themselves into your flesh. In between your breaths I would hear the sticky sludge overwhelm the currents of air, leaving you to sputter and wheeze.
  4. Mouth: The melodic notes that emanated from the ribbons at the back of your throat eventually distorted into cacophonous screeches, much like a worn down cassette. Pockets of heaving, diluted gasps merged with incessant, nonsensical rambles that were one part paranoia and two parts ferocious urgency. The same words poured over your lips, dehydrating them to whispering, barren crags.
  5. Body: Your body was a desert, ceaselessly gazing towards the illusion of a faraway oasis. Constantly shuddering, skin cracking and peeling from years of weathering and negligence. A greasy, dank mass of curls sat atop your head, peppered with flakes of dry skin. Your skin had started to shrivel like tissue paper, the creases and folds adding a decade to your appearance. Your arms were not just blankets but a structural support to keep you from crumbling to pieces.



  1. I dared myself to take the plunge, to explore the depths, to try and fill the emptiness. But I drowned in the pitch blackness, lost at sea.
  2. I dived into the eye of the storm, the supposed safe haven from the crashing fury of the waters. Instead, my body was thrown about, mangled and then torn apart by the gale.
  3. I went spelunking- to collect the crystals, to dredge up what was buried, to flush away the grime in the hopes of finding a treasure. But I suffocated and entombed in the avalanche.
  4. I tried to become the maestro, to guide the notes into a whimsical harmony. Instead, I unleashed a discord too fearsome to behold.
  5. I attempted to cross the desert, to break down the failing framework that precariously held you up. But in the process, I was buried alive- left to suffocate in your searing sand, with no oasis to be found in a lifetime.


Zareen Tasnim