PERPETUAL DESIRE

Wanting you makes no sense to me, but the wanting makes a slave of all of my senses. Missing you shakes me to the very core. You are all I can think about until I get that taste of you I need to survive. Knowing that that minimal amount of serendipity will only make me want you more as soon as your scent escapes me, I still must feel you inside of me, coursing thru my veins. I sometimes wish I were blind when your eyes first pierced my soul, but as I have been electrocuted by their emerald hypnotism, I would rather suffer your foolishness, gladly, carrying with me the memory of your stare, than never to have known it, felt it, lived it. The inter-tangling of our limbs while inside your embrace brings to me a feeling of ecstasy so enthralling, I am cold and shivering when I am not there. To be wrapped up in that comfort is what I wake up for, leave home for, be someone I am not for. The sound of you distracts me and I cannot concentrate until something that I only wish measured up to you grabs my attention and gives to me a temporary moment of sanity. The taste of you is natural to me, as if I have always known what food it is I need to bring me the kind of satisfaction necessary to comfort my pain. You are wicked and beautiful and wrong and right and while you are fulfilling, you always leave me wanting more. You are my weakness, yet the pieces of you I have make me strong. Without you I am cold and scared and depressed. I know, empirically, I should not want you this much, but to have felt you inside of me leaves no room for the notion that I cannot ever feel you there, again. You are my addiction, and everyday I attempt to reconcile how to live WITH you, rather than without. I am selfish. I need you, and I can't think of a single thing I have to offer in return. Come fill me up with your warm oblivion, and let me live in joy for just another moment. I'll worry about the consequences tomorrow... 

-by Deannalynn Arzola