Midnight Cream

Cold and smooth down my throat

People rush passed but time is still

My feet waver. I can’t be still

Listening intently with no absorption

Fear that I’m missing out but aware that

I’m as I should be

My knees keep me upright staring. Not

longing. Intent. Not caring.

Thick and nauseating.

I craved it.

Thin and souring I need it.

Moving too much. I’m still too much.

My position hasn’t changed, but I’ve lost

too much.

I should abandon this feeling, but the want

is so much.

I choose what’s in front of me.

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