Sleeping got the better part of her
The days ahead held little to no work
Rolling from one side of the bed to another
She chased out of her head any thought at all, of work
Still on the bed she finally opened her eyes
Glad to enjoy a well-deserved rest
When suddenly she became conscious of her boob size
Home alone; decided to look in the mirror her half-exposed breasts
Feeling one in her hands seemed unsatisfactory
The blouse buttons yielded to her ambitious fingers
In the mirror was the reflection of a body; cloth free
Fondling to excitement, she proceeded to her lower features
Day turned days, till her mind regarded nothing else
Later struggles to quit, only landed more frustration
Now a decade and her depressed brain cells
Still cannot erase, the genesis of her addiction
POET SIXTEEN 