Void Fillers

Inside doesn't quite cut it,
There's no stimulation to be found,
Tired limbs bring good memories,
But memories fade and blur,
Colour, light, noise, music, drugs,
Ingredients for a good time,
I need fun.

Restlessness is settling in,
The need 'to do' is constantly there.
Places, activities feel far away,
The past is of course unreachable,
The future uncertain,
I want to be around people,
I need company.

The touch of skin on skin,
Lips together, eyes closed,
Comfortable, beautiful silences,
Fingers entwined,
The sun breaking through,
Noises outside distant and muted,
I need love.

:|

Ravaged by moroseness and ennui,
Grasping me in their seemingly eternal grasp,
Wondering why one always suffers,
After life's most invigorating experiences.

Drunkenness is followed by a hangover
The comedown follows the high,
Tiredness follows exertions of energy,
Whilst heartbreak undoubtedly follows love.

The problem intensifies when,
In search of the memory of these feelings
One's sombre mood is mixed,
With nostalgia and wistfulness.

The longing ensues,
To recreate the mood,
Strive for that level of ecstasy,
Or simply have a kiss and cuddle.

But melancholy never helped anyone,
And past-living is non-effective.
So the task now at hand,
Is to recapture these experiences once more.