Drug (an acrostic poem)

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Don’t think I can get enough of you

Racing through my veins and making my heart beat hard and fast

Until I feel I might explode from the feeling of pure bliss

Grinning, I whisper into your ear, “Give me another hit.”

Poet (an acrostic poem)

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Placing emotions on a page, then folding them into intricate origami dioramas of life

Or pluck stars from the sky and plant them under mountains to grow gemstone geodes

Even distill humanity, boil off the dross, and serve up a potent shot of pure intoxication and misery

Then crumple up the whole thing, delete the file, and try again since the craft was not perfected

Brain (an acrostic poem)

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Beating up her heart with blows of pure logic

Reality was there was no chance this was really love

Almost certainly it was just hormones and nothing more

It was a waste of time, and her resources were better used studying

Not that she could think of anything but the taste of his lips…