An Aching Hunger

An Aching Hunger

Boom boom, boom boom, boom boom.

I scan my surroundings for an answer to this noise.
Boom boom, boom boom, boom boom.

There’s nothing in sight that would put my curiosity to rest.

Boom boom, boom boom, boom boom.

My legs begin to feel weak, as my hands begin to shake.

As I lookout to the street, this all becomes clear.

It’s you, standing there.

Too far away to touch,

But close enough to make my heart pound against my chest.

Boom boom, boom boom, boom boom.

And close enough to fill my body with an aching hunger.

As you walk closer to me, I must remind myself

“I cannot. 

I will not. 

We should not.”



– 75 beats per minute –

6:47 AM: the sun rises as my feet drop down onto the carpet.

7:50 AM: volume reads “max” as I pull out of my driveway.

9:00 AM: an enthusiastic “hello!” echoes through the room as I’m approached by my target.

. . . . . . . . .

5:15 PM: volume reads “max” as I pull away from the labor of my day.

5:18 PM: lyrics touch me in a way that’s almost karmic.

Time no longer exists.
Every sound, every feel, every sense, stuck in a world of grey.

And then there’s you.

– 115 beats per minute –

7:06 PM: my eyes glued to your words as if they need to be guarded.

7:16 PM: all of my attention on the 4 inch display, just waiting for you to play.

9:45 PM: no words. no symbols. no activity. Just as you’ve done to my heart, I’ve done to these feelings of today, discarded.

– 60 beats per minute –