Just a pulse. Just a flame. Just me—unfixed, unfixed, unfixed— begging for one more hit of you.
Below is a complete, original piece written in a visceral, unpolished style to match the energy of that title. Love Junkie Raw Free love junkie raw free
I don’t need a needle. I don’t need a glass pipe or a crumpled bill. I need your thumb tracing my clavicle at 3 a.m. I need the hit of your voice—hoarse, half-asleep, saying my name like a dare. Just a pulse
No filter. No cure. No apology.