more than what I know

I want more.

I want lullabies, paradoxes magnifying minor mysteries. 

Every sense of life, every touch's kiss. 

Heaven and Hell, philosophies integrated into psychology. 

Pain, fear, love, anxiety.

Rejection, acceptance, naked love, and vitriol. 

Vyvanse, anti-depressants, and talk therapy. 

Family, friends, coworkers, and the elders you pretend to respect.

Knowing death can come at any moment, vague thoughts, ambivalent spirit.

Fantasies of a better life and delusions of two-faced friends. 

The beautiful despair of a genuine laugh that can only end. 

Of a lover that can only move on,

and the lies that come from sensitivity. 

The secrets we keep, for better or worse.

The words only spoken to ease the lonely feeling. 

I want more.

The mental calculation of every eye movement. 

The underlying motivation when making eye contact.

Why you step closer or further away.

Give me everything.

How close are you to giving up?

How close are you to getting everything you want?

Why make the choice to breathe?

To consider what is only inconsequential after death?

Do you need music the same way I do? 

Do you feel the same way I do?

Constant ambiguity, what may or may not be pretense, proactively preventing criticism. 

Self-consciousness, nightmares, and the lucid dreams that make life feel unreal. 

The performative sigh, lying to the self, refusing to try.

Manipulation and games, teasing, self-hatred. 

Flirting with no end, intimacy with no foreplay. 

Traumatic flashbacks, friends that will never love me again, friends I'll lose to miscommunication.

Repentance and forgiveness, spirituality and agnosticism. 

Ephemeral love and the ignition of lust.

Worthlessness, suicidal ideation, and the bliss of forgetting it all. 

I want more than what I know.