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Poetry: Dyin' Nice Us



I've got this problem, see
I need to get my fill
cause I'm strapped
with a hunger for satisfaction
so like, I crave it, desperately
I'm constantly preoccupied with
terrible urgency
so that all around me,
every where I look,
every one I see is raw
pure, potent potential, 
and boundless
Energy
And I want some, got to have just a little taste
or so I tell myself
But then
a little becomes a lot
and I need every single last drop
You see,
with this much good around
and everyone else so deaf to the sound
I feel it's my personal duty 
to take it down
And I wont let any of it go to waste
If I can help it
I'll wrap these two hands,
and those two legs
around everything, all of it,
whatever they can grasp
I'll hold on as tight in these moments
as I can
because I really do understand that
nothing is permanent
neither pain nor joy, your rejection
nor my inferences
of promised ecstasy
not our kisses or
when I hold your hand in mine
none of it, not one second in time
as we know it
was ever meant to last
So, it's with that in mind
that I intend to live
to push it, to pull it, 
to climb and erect it
to break it  up, tear it apart,
thrash it, and birth it,
repair, and rebuild it
Everything We could be
because every idea,
every moment, and breath
represents Infinity
and as many permutations of
our possibilities
I crave Infinity so,
I'm wild
with dissatisfaction,
hungry and jaded
palpatated, breathless,
sweaty, whiny, tired
and plain old strung out on
my addiction to life
Do you think you even
kinda get it yet?

copyright 2010