I am

You’re right. I’m insatiable.

I move through my days with an altered want.

Never feeling whole, always wanting more.

I’m hungry. I’m aching.

I’m disquiet in sensibility. And I hide it so well.

I’m ambiguous. I’m distraught. I’m fiery with wet imagination.
I’m breathing deep trying to pull you closer.

I’m a mess. Cultivated in all my senses so that no one else can see it. No one else can feel it.

I’m choosing the road of oblivion.