sticky hands

I can eat anything

a torturous ache never fulfilled 

in the bottomless pit

a want and a need

different sides of the same coin

I want

I need

nothing will satisfy

this gaping hole that punches through

my middle

it creeps up my throat

nails drag down my face in railroads of fire

I’m hungry

Fulfillment is lost in the world where 

my hands grab for

everything I see

Does anything have value if I

possess it all?