You’re worse than the cigarettes.
I gave them up 2 years ago,
But I still want one every day.
The thought crosses my mind for a fleeting second or two.
Not so much with you,
You’re more of a constant.
Like an addiction too,
But harder to get rid of.
Why not someone who would be here?
Is my craving for you,
Or can I not deny the jones for unavailable men?
And if you were here?
Ever fulfill that deep-seated longing?
That bottomless pit
I always seem to be standing on the edge of.
There’s a convenience store down the block.
Maybe all I need is just one more,
Then I’ll be able to walk away.