What critical nonsense,
This need--
To be liked, to be loved--
Acceptance almost at any price,
Well any price not too high.
Yet, the bar always changes and
High is not quite high enough.

It’s like a dry mouth
and its harsh indrawn breath-
A mouthful of desert.
The hope keeping the tongue
from passing out from the heat
and shrivelling like
a lotus out of water.

I wish I could wish
I could live without it.
Physical loneliness is something,
but emotional and intellectual loneliness
are the hardest to reconcile.

One could sip beneath the midday sun
but the thirst remains,
growing thicker, longer like the day.