I've spent so long in the grey
That when I get a taste of color,
It seeps through my veins
Penetrating my bones.
And then The Want is there.

Phosphorescence
that I have never been able to recreate.
Not for myself, at least.
I hunger to put it to my lips
Like an alcoholic
Seeking to drink myself into asylum  
and lap at each
and every
individual drop.
In the selfish hope that I too
Will burn like you.

The Want cocoons me in a toasty blanket
Whispering soft pleasantries.
As it sinks its claws into my chest
And leaves me bleeding
And wishing that I were unfeeling
Once again.