My Addiction's Core

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Trudging through the desperation
of my deep-set rapture,
musical steel thread filter
through oil spill doubts,
infection of earthquakes filching stability.
Shackles of obliteration holding me
to a boulevard I care not to trek a moment longer.

Your footsteps resound next to my back,
reaching with songs of desire for my destiny.
There is no resistance in my despondent bones.
The wave of Your deepest love slams into me,
breaking chains and giving me to gravity’s grace.
Dirt claims knee’s skin,
Your hammer bruised hands
hefting me to stand once more.

Transparent aching molding porcelain light
into a prismatic exoskeleton,
all weight given with dependency
to Your wood-trod muscles.

Obsession creeps within my survival instincts,
twisting the inclination to lengthen my days
to make room for the willingness to die for You,
if the need rose from hate-stoked closed-hearted.

You settle into my veins,
a need grows like nothing I’ve felt,
before or since.
Determination screamed at my essence,
yearning to display my sincerity
to death-cloaked men;
this palpable freedom,
this sudden and welcome resuscitation.
The truth of what I feel whispering
throughout disdainful mouths:

Addiction





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