The most stubborn addiction (poem)

 

The most stubborn addiction is one everyone shares,

and of which most human animals stay unaware,

 

one behind everything we think, do and say,

and from which no one gets entirely away,

 

one we usually notice most when it’s gone,

one rooted in fears birthed the moment we’re born,

 

one beneath and behind most of our sorrows,

that keeps us trapped in our yesterdays and tomorrows,

 

one you see in me before you see it in you,

and to which we both cling until our brain cells turn blue.

 

We’re addicted to a thought, a wish, an idea,

an assumption we almost never see clear:

 

that life can and should belong to us,

that we should be drivers and reality the bus,

 

that relationships, like suits, should be altered to fit,

and that fears, tears and pain should be treated like shit,

 

like nasty waste that is best flushed away

instead of messages about who and where we are today.

 

I suppose what we really want is to be God. 

It’s the most human of all fantasies, and one that dies hard.

 

But as long as it lives inside us we’re hooked,

jonesing for control wherever we look,

 

unable to rest, trust, surrender or play,

Or be who we are in what we feel, do and say,

 

and fated to find that, finally, no control can relieve

the ache of hands too grabby to receive.

 

~ Steve Hauptman