Hungry

My eyes open, I stride, beat in hand,
desperate, afraid, but ever unbroken.
No cost, no sin, will hold sway my fate,
for with pain there is privilege,
with love enough its never too late.

And how strongly I yearn myself free,
feeling crushed, treated wrongly,
by the unprepared, rushed, intensity
of my own midnight thoughts.

Confounded, hurt, by these limitations,
my reason strains to understand.
As if a child, reprimanded, grounded,
running from emotions, shameful to hold...
pushed out, unable to stay, forced to go.

For these questions, riddles from God,
cannot be answered by currency.
Swallowed, pleasured, however indecently.
They remain; prophetic words, asking me,
 who I am and what it means...
to be hungry.