| and it pulses dangerously when you dare to dream
and you feel enraptured
by the hope, the thought, of getting
the object of your desire
when all your thoughts turn
to him, to her, to it,
when you can think no more of other things
and your days go by in a daze,
and just a glimpse, a glance, perchance an accidental graze!,
can give you a heart-on that won't subside for days,
days that go by in a daze...
when you have been ensnared
by love, by lust, by like, by desire
and you feel just like a pawn, a plaything,
just like a doll,
and you think
maybe you should tread easily,
but then the ecstasy — oh the ecstasy! —
of the prospects
of acquiring your aspiration,
of realizing, of consummating,
can make all the prospects
of being crushed
by your crush
feel like childish fears
the monsters under your bed
are just monsters in your head,
or so they say...
when this passion passes,
or crashes,
or runs out its course,
and you feel a new passion coming on,
does it feel at all like deja vu?
when you look at the path in front of you,
does it look not like a straight line, but like an elliptical loop?
when you are thinking about chasing this new attraction,
does it feel a little like you are trapped in a track?
when you are feeling the tug of the hook in your heart,
and you catch a look of what's at the other end of the line,
of who is holding that rod,
and you think
maybe you'll let yourself be reeled in again,
don't.
cut the strings
spurn your yearnings
and vow to shun pursuing your longings
reject those things that can make you happy
deny what can make this dim world brighter
turn your back on what can make this cold world warmer
just to say fuck you, desire,
you're not the boss of me. |
