I Still Want It

a healthy purge of emotions

It crawls up inside you and

Spreads its rot and debris.

An ugly thing.

It’s something that slowly

Gnaws on your conscience,

distorting the wrong and right once

evenly comprehended.

A monstrous thing.

It tears apart families and

Gives birth to violence.

A powerful thing.

It makes me want to

Hate you,

So bad until I welcome

A crazy thing

To consume me.

Even through my tears

It makes me adore you,

A complicated thing.

A pestilence.

The only thing to remedy

This mercurial cancer is even more of

This thing

That I pray each day to infect me.

This thing, this beautiful thing,

Must be

Love.