Whiskey And Writing Aren’t Enough

I don’t quite remember
When the interest
Grew into attraction.

Nor do I remember
When the attraction
Transitioned to longing…

Or when that longing,
Led to

Love.

What now floods my mind
And fills my heart
Is the yearning
To be yours.

Naively,
I hoped
And wished,
That all these emotional
Demands
Would diminish,

Leaving me in control
Of my life.

But

Yet again,

The compulsion of love
Drives the naivety
From my lingering dream
That I can make it
On my own.

So tonight,
In the quiet
Of the day’s end…

The ache of me

Missing and needing
You,

Desperately,

Overwhelms
My shortsighted sense
Of safety.

I’m in another place now,

My emotional armor pierced…

My safety net rent…

Left with no other option
Than to
Keep loving you.

I have no choice…

You own me.

I can hide no more…

My routine salve

To bathe the hurt,
And soothe the wound,

Is no longer sufficient.

Whiskey and writing
Aren’t enough.

© 2018 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

12 thoughts on “Whiskey And Writing Aren’t Enough

  1. Emotions are strange, don’t you think? They are “a monster of fearful mien”. When you let them out, you are left feeling so vulnerable. Out of sorts. Not knowing what to do with yourself. Fearing that once out of control they will come back to hurt you. So, sometimes we force them back in, toughen up, try to focus on the matter at hand. Yet, in the very next pensive moment, one starts daydreaming again, and we find ourselves smiling for no reason at all.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That is so spot-on and inspiring!! And, I totally agree!! Strange as human emotions are, is it wrong of me to put them on a pedestal?! Seems to me, that the stretch, angst, and beauty of life are seminally beautiful, intertwined, and so meaningful to the short, special days of our time here. Perhaps….I am overly emotional.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. No, not at all. Without emotions, there would be no poetry, no music, art, nor life. It is what flesh is made up of. And if one thinks about it, without the angst, how would we know and appreciate beauty when that comes around? I also suppose it is the blending of the two — angst and beauty, fear and accepting, love and hate, black and white — that adds to the magic.

        Liked by 1 person

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