To say that I miss it would be a gross understatement to the sheer beauty of what we had
To say that I long for it like an exile longs for his homeland would be peppering poetry with too much politics
It’s wistfulness, when my feet feel too dry of a sudden,
and I miss dipping my toes into the water with you
It’s hunger, when somewhere between my morning coffee and afternoon cigarette,
I can taste bits of you on my tongue
It’s yearning, when I go through days when I am no longer whole,
but merely half.
It’s thirst, when my throat, mouth, and lips are all parched and dry,
because of how long it’s been since I’ve had you in my system.
It’s greed, when this beautiful man in front of me swears he loves me and promises me the world, and I still look the other way,
hoping for you to magically come along to pick up right where we left off
It’s hysteria, when my ears play tricks on me
and I think I hear your voice calling my name
It’s pain, when my hands twitch
as I reminisce over how perfect they used to look,
when they were entangled with yours
It’s withdrawal, when my heart, body and soul ache for you so badly
that I can’t get out of bed because I haven’t been able to function
since my last lethal dose of you
I need you to understand that it’s more than just a persistent, painful desire.
It’s worse than that, because it can’t ever be fulfilled – and that’s the worst of all desires.
A need is a need regardless of its nature,
but how do you quench that thirst when what you need
is now a part of nature?