Hunger Hunt

Under the guise that no one will read what I write I say that I am happy to be alive, as I feel closer to death, I can't forget what I've been through, what I've gained from what I've lost and how much there still is to learn - but will I?

I've led myself into a complacent place so easy to get to but so hard to get out. Last time I had help but these chances depend on my ability to surprise myself and challenge me.

And I yell and no one listens because I am full of shit.

And I tell him I'm guilty for the things I've done and for the things I didn't do. I told you I would do it one day and I guess it may still happen, though it's as if time itself is actually speeding up and it's hard to jump on this train or that bus or drive this car, it's going so fast that I can't get to the station on time, or I arrive at the bus stop too late, or the car doesn't start.

I know I'm not empty, I know I've still got gas. I know I've still got fuel for this fire. I'm holding myself back and waiting for that precise arrival time, when you know in your heart it's right.

So hurry up and get here and change me from the inside out, I'm open and dying and my hunger will never die.