Longing Original Painting by Adrianne Tamar

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30x40 oil paint on wood

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Maybe it’ll never come.
If only I could accept that.
But it seems
I was born
With a special affliction
Of burning, burning, burning
With a desire
For the shape of something
That I am shaped for
Yet may not exist
To meet me.
I would stop it if I could
Turn it off if I was able
But it burns
At my core
As if, without it
My life would cease entirely.
Maybe this is what it is
To live life alive
In longing-shaped flames
Never relieved, never cooled, never met.

For how long?

Is there a point where the flames burn themselves out?
Can a person die from longing?
I suppose if so,
I was a person who was made
To find out.

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