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274 · Sep 2019
The Craving
Srikaran Anand Sep 2019
A craving so powerful,
It binds the senses.
It draws you out like cologne,
Feeds off your body with fervour.
It pours on your misery,
Making you sweat and making you swear,
Spilling onto the floor and making you care.
Once you get stung,
Twice you get stung,
It doesn't matter. 

Out you go,
Looking for clues, and
strapped to your soul is a
reason to move.
Forward? Is that your way?
The craving acknowledges no
sense of direction,
no sense of logic.
It ploughs down at will,
And destroys to ****. 

The craving today is a craving
to last as long as an asteroid
rocketing through the pitch black,
illuminating the path it traces
so wonderfully that you take a step back,
and say,
"Well, I wish you were here,
But you're so far away.
I'm not sad, just disappointed.
But I can see your light,
And I don't mind it any day. "

The craving yesterday was a craving
to last forever only for it to breach
the barriers of never.
This bind no longer striking me hard,
knowing I'd come to senses
about this craving.
The bind coming off never meant
I abandoned it.
It is time to embrace it,
The cufflinks come off. 

A craving to misinterpret,
A craving to comprehend.
Feelings tainted by a smidge
of uncertainty, fracturing time.
The craving that keeps on giving,
The craving of love.

— The End —