Child like Faith

it aches how I long

like an infant that searches the bosom,

never full. Always wanting more.

When I open my eyes, I’m hunting.

When I close them, I’m famished.

In a day, I’ve spent all my energy chasing the dollar on a hook,

forging fullness, with the generics of looks.

I put you off and then I miss you.

I crave what I know you quench,

I’m fatigued but you are vital.

I feast on counterfeit, In lieu of all you promise.

I choose distractions most days, if I’m being honest.

But you don’t. You are fully present.

Telling me to be still.

To exhale the breath I’ve been holding onto.

The only thing I can promise,

is that I’ll always start again.