evidently not

don’t you get tired of it all?

don’t you get

tired     

of it all?

of strange hands held

in the drunken anonymity of friends’ friends’ parties

if not in the alleys behind dingy bars

strange hands held and run away from?

of desperately seeking love

despite the evident dangers

again and again and again

and again, amongst strangers?

of missing being kissed

being held?

and yet not knowing whose hands they are that you miss

sitting alone on a dark windy porch unlit?

don’t you get tired of it?              

of it all?

of running and hiding and seeking repeatedly?

of lusting and being unable to love? unable to love, for fuck’ sake

of holding and in the same instant hoping to break free?

of these cycles of burning and yearning and the heartache?

don’t u?

get tired?

of it all?

don’t    

you get                

tired     

of it       

all?