I'm getting this tingle
That feels like the emergence of a new habit.
A single manned vessel out on neurological seas,
Off on a drift.
On a voyage of adventure and discovery
Of the frontiers of desire.
Not In a rush...
But in graceful anticipation
Of what awaits on anchor.
The start of the true journey
To the home of my psychic cravings.
A gateway out of premonitions
Into physical overindulging.
These, the visions and ramblings of a fiend,
Hooked on a familiar substance.
Meditating on his last fix
And of the next being a much larger dose.
The thoughts, the smell, the sight,
And then there's the taste.
A psychedelic-like experience with effects
That sends you off into a daze.
Leaving It's mark,
A subconscious time stamp of a great high,
With a re-collective trigger that sparks a smile.
It's simply an addiction,
One that has broken It's leash.
And Is developing an appetite
It'll soon have to feed.
Yes, I should try to retame it,
Maybe command It to stay.
But It's no longer In my control,
I'm Just helping it walk It's trail.
Neither do I care to,
It seems to be heading somewhere interesting.
At the very least,
It will inspire a story that's worth writing.