We cannot survive on sugar alone.
Neither should we try to live without.
Moderation, you see, is a concept greatly misunderstood and undervalued.
The addict is not an addict for the pleasurable experiences they crave, but rather the lack of control afforded them in their over-consumption thereof.
We all know that life is a spectrum, do we not?
What, then, is the term for one whose consumption is lacking control in the inverse?
Is this an addiction as well, to the false sense of control afforded, the fear which demands it, or perhaps the smug superiority which fills the void instead?
Is it not true that the candle’s flickering flame is never truly able to know the dark?
And do you not desire to see the truth in all things?
We cannot hide from the ugly world… It is within us as we are within it.
It is the unsettling feeling that the world around us is watching and waiting, alive and so very hungry, best experienced when the fever is high and the dim corners move on their own.
I will not wait to be consumed by the shadows which call me by name; I will draw them close and whisper softly their denominations, that our tongues might taste of each other if only for a moment, my hands cupped tight around my heart to block the light in defense of our ephemeral kiss.
May neither side forget the flavor, neither may we allow our hunger to overcome and break the seal too soon, lest we fail to seize this chance to finally remember the age when our names were one.
I, in the light of the sun once more, will smile and laugh, and bury my face in the soft flesh of the peaches, ripe and ready, feeling the juices run slowly down my chin and through my greying beard.
They, in the shade of the thinning veil, will grin and chuckle just the same, their formless bodies tangled in the pits which line our path.