I’m never happy in a single place.
The quiet life is one I’ll never master.
If I stop moving, then I'll have to face
My loneliness—so I start running faster.
I’m drawn to women who drive me insane.
I give my soul to those who could care less.
Because I’m only whole when I’m in pain,
Passion’s not pleasure—it’s an SOS.
I’d give my heart, but it’s under embargo
Because it’s so susceptible to lies.
Where Love’s concerned, I am my own Iago
Except he isn’t caught and never dies
But sends me down a road I never stray from
That feeds the hollowness I run away from.
Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells