I Am Only Happy When I’m Wanting What I Can’t Have

As a child I made a routine out of longing,
wrapping my hands around each passing desire,
forcing the world to contort and concede
to every craving that lived under my skin.

I grew up only comfortable in yearning,
staring into the void of desire, wondering how to extract
what the heavens were withholding,
Wanting to taint and manipulate the fates to my advantage,
just to prove I had them under control.

As an adult, I have learned to build homes
Inside the absence of whatever I am wanting,
Resting indoors while the tides swell and storms brew,
As I wait for the long game to play out and for the cards
to keep unfolding in my favor.

I’ve become an architect whose specialization is constructing makeshift spaces inside temporary
States of deprivation

States like you
Not being with me –

Not yet.

I have developed an affinity for comfort
When I am wanting for something I can’t have and at the moment
I’ve built a home inside of
Not having you.

I’ve been tracing meteorological forecasts
With your name echoed over the skies
And I’ve grown certain that these tides are going to change;
Our storm will swell,
The cards will play out and the fates
Will unfold in our favor

But until then you can find me here waiting,
Keeping one eye on our darkening skies.