Consumed

Every few minutes it’s inevitable. A thought that does nothing but distract the mind from everything else. Maybe it’s the change of season, or maybe it’s just random. But guys are on the brain, and there’s nothing to be done about it. It changes how my days run, how I sleep. It’s disruptive, but somehow I can’t stop it. Maybe I don’t want to stop it. Or I only want it to stop when I finally get my way. I want this to end differently than all the times before. I don’t want it to wear off until I’m satisfied.