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Nothing Else



After long enough mainlining truth,
nothing else will do.
And it's not even truth,
of course it's not.
But it's sweet and cool
even when it's sharp and painful,
and the whole damned world blurs
after a while and imprecision where clarity
is wanted is such a slight—even an insult—
impossible to bear without blossoming
into resentment.  Nothing else will do,
and you want more and more—
let them say you need it,
let them say that.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.