Something happens.
We are addicted to it. A scroll. A glow. A beep.
The feedback to be and see.
The shaper of death in the doom of happening.
The endless need to see something.
To know something.
To grow.
To change.
To be more.
We are addicted to the happening.
~~~
All the while it does.
With or without our caresses and loves.
In the satisfaction of owning it we crave.
In the absolution of expecting it we strife.
In the illusion of bigger, better it steals us away.
Not knowing that it can’t be any other no matter what you think and say.
It happens.
Until the next ❤️ beat ~.~.~
