the distance between want
even the conviction against the choice
is a kind of obsession
with the absence.
and what that absence means,
contrary to the presence of “it” itself.
you aren’t free until the desire for
and the desire of have subsided.
I’ve been thinking a lot about
how it is a kind of reverence.
how the desire is a kind of worship.
how the thing itself is replaceable.
how the need is the reality—not
the object of the need—but the needing
itself as object.
what separates “normal” people from
us? (me, you, I, them, her, him)
the same thing that draws us together—desire.
what unites us is also what separates—choice.
choice begets heartache in the form of
disgust/ shame/ envy
“why can’t I…”
is there is no such thing as enough.
is a linguistic trickery,
an ephemeral feeling fleeting
and always replaced
by the hunger.
could you write me a prescription
bottle up the feeling
of a soft kiss on the cheek?
manufacture the sense
of sadness subsided?
if you could
put an IV in me
full of what being held so tightly I don’t ever
feel I could fall again—
I wouldn’t be like this—
or maybe I would,
because that is also the distinction between
the addicted and whatever is the not
addiction (I couldn’t tell you what that is).
one, knowing the consequences
and pain, still makes the choice.
literally and/ or figuratively—
while the other gets tired of the
scars, and stops.
which are you?
the former is the lacking and hungering,
while the latter is the searching and,
finding no answer,
able to move on.
-the difference between you and me is you can stop-
what does “stop” mean?
here, there, then, now, tomorrow?
there’s always a tomorrow until
and the former (and latter) of us, has to look at today, face it,
head-on, while the aching hunger continues.
until it will, or does eventually somewhat subside,
replaced by the fullness
of life itself.