Did I like you, or the thrill of you?
The smell of you? The feel of you?
That you do things I wouldn’t do?
Or simply the idea of you?

What is it that made me so stuck?
What about you caught me up?
What made me think what was in my cup,
was unsatisfying, not enough?

What about the way we interact
made me see things that were not fact?
And how was using the wrong track
thought better than me turning back?

What about you gave me such a high
that greater things could pass me by?
Why in the world was I so blind?
What happened that had blown my mind?

Why is it I am so afraid
of any ‘feel’ that comes my way?
Why is it that the path that’s laid
stirs up in me such empty rage?
Why can’t I seem to turn the page?
What keeps drawing you center stage?
And why can’t I just leave this cage?
This box that haunts me many days.

And why am I not satisfied
with the glory sown deep inside?
And more worried about my pride
than choosing what my mind decides?

What drew me to a fruit so sweet,
that tasting it would seem a treat,
but chewing would release the heat
that makes my sins and lies repeat?

What power was at work within?
What kept me severed from my kin?
That, only upon being broken,
would I, alas, be free again?