anyway i can have it i want the disease

that burning sensation in the soul,
i want it back. where you let go of everyone
and everything, and just lunge for the truth with both hands,
feet off the ground, like a defensive diving for the ball, i want
to hold it in my hands, to cover it with my body and feel its lump

the problem with direction, i say,
is that, i never seem to be heading in the right one.
i'd like to be cs ambassador again, so place that crown on my head
and let me dance in the streets, ladies on balconies
throwing confetti in clouds above my head, men
in line to congratulate me, offer bits of wisdom, whisper in my ear the things i'd like said

"if i was king", i say, triumphant in my own fantasy until
it crashes to the floor, and suddenly,
i am just me again, with nothing in hand, all
in the clouds, and i see that
i am again
at the feet
of the world