wanting without end reminds me that i am alive. every last bit of me is alive and my soul is constantly absorbing every little longing like a sponge and making room for one self inflicted heartbreak after another. every last fiber soaks until the sponge is drenched and has no other option but to be rung out. what then? i dread the day when all that's left of me is a dry and tired sponge with no heart and no energy left to want again. or perhaps i dread the day when the sponge decides to never let go and carries on, heavy and drenched with the weight of wasted love. or perhaps the cure is a little bit of sunshine and summer heat to dry out the sponge? force myself to let go of self pity for the time being and try to understand why i am so broken...broken like the bucket we kick around for years or maybe lifetimes, because none of this is new to the human heart...none of it.
-kayla
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