it's like.

It's like you can never catch your breath.
You're always breathless.

You smile to yourself without control;
the thoughts come like naturally,
like rivers flowing in their streambeds.

Hopes spring up like flowers from the mud.
Anything, anything, just for a little more of
What you desire.

Whenever life's pressure lets up,
your longing uncoils up again.

If she is not there when you expected it,
something inside wrinkles and twists.
aches, curls up, tightens up.

Knowing there are others longing for the same person;
like little spears stuck in your heart.

Anything, anything, for a little more dose;
of the opiate that causes blissfully painful addiction.
To see her briefly is pain, but you want more anyway;
in her presence is an expanding heart;
outside of it, a aching one.

Will I ever show you these words?
Or will these longings simply fade away, without even the closure of dying.