The hunger that never ends

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.