I’m beginning to believe
that it really is all just the same.
Constantly looking for something
to fill the empty within.
It’s a search, a hunt, scavenging
for something to fit in the spaces.
Something external to feed the internal
the hunger never ends.
Maybe it comes in a bottle
and it slithers down your throat.
Or rolled up in a dollar bill
and you simply have to inhale.
Maybe it’s in the sweat
and the muscles left burning.
Maybe it’s in her smile
or the sweet sound of her voice.
It comes from words and sounds
as they crawl into your ears.
It comes from cool evening air
as it dances across your skin.
You chase it, covet, defend and protect
to the point that you’ve bled the source.
And still you find yourself feverishly
needing something more.
This is the face of emptiness
the face of need vs want.
Need will never be satiated
this hunger never fed.
Oh, to simply want,
to feel that gentle pull.
A feeling of fickle fancy
like a taste for something sweet.
But oh, to be buried under the weight
of this ever pressing need.
The breathless power of desperate
the urgency just will not cease.