Addictive it is
 this disrepair
 

for it requires 
 a more intoxicating mending

We only break
 that which we can shatter

We unhinge
 what longs to be tightened

As it was slowly loosened

long ago


We numb the insatiate fear

With that which we can taste

Quickly
Urgently

Blurring our interior vision
Imprisoning our possibility

When do we cease giving toward
 that which we adore
 

and begin giving away
 to that which we abhor