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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Experience · #2331740
All things impermanent leave behind the pain of wanting what was.
There is a reason
They call it intoxicating

The want
The need
The yearning
No logic to be applied
Better judgement
Lays by the wayside

For something impermanent
You cannot hold onto forever
Struggle as you might
To make it so

All things that feel this good
End up in this place

The muscles ache
Cry out in need
The mind spins
And collapses into its own realm
Sleep a forgotten memory

Phantom pains
Plague the night
Grasping across the bed
To hold onto
Only empty air
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