hungers

there are hungers. hungers that rest so restlessly in the pit of your stomach that makes any beast seem uncooked. 

different shades of madness consume your sight as dreams of something resembling talent colors your good sense. 

being alone, 

what a gift it is that should be cherished. 

but the shades baby, the shades hand you the intolerance you were born without. you wanna break the bones of the wind and wanna tear the flesh from the sea but you can’t baby. the hungers.

 they tie you down and warp holes in places. the hungers. they bare no resemblance to anything else, and spring from the same void that gives you peace.