Whatever It Is

Lun.a.ttic

How long has it been there?

It starts with a small one,

And it becomes bigger,

More than enough to make space,

Occupying desire that spark uncontrollably,

Fulfilling all the needs that recently have been ignored.

I love how I make room for it,

Denying all the needs,

Satisfying all the wants,

It feels so good that I crack my wildest dream,

Just to make it livable,

All of my lust has been poured in the right path.

It's just an attic,

Where I put all the things in the exact place,

But it hurts my eyes sometimes,

Looking at all the messiness,

There's no space to breathe,

No space to add on,

No place to relax,

There was an urge to demolish it.

But I can't get rid of it,

My obsession of it lead me to an abyss,

Where everything turns untouchable,

It will stay in the same room,

Ready to be used when I want to,

Whenever I feel bored.

You never know how to stop it,

Never know your next move,

When you see another one that suit your space,

And you will regret when you see your endless lunatic,

that cannot be cure even with attending therapies,

You will never escape your lunattic.