Closure

The last time is always the last time until it happens again. 
I wasted a large majority of my time chasing when I should have been patient.
I'm filled to the brim with impatience. It's just the way I am, so eager to get to the end.
I can't tolerate stagnation. I want to be in constant motion.
I can never just be still and enjoy the view, like that of the salty ocean.
Before my sutures heal I am up and running again, impervious to the cold blood dripping from my head.
I have a problem with holding my tongue. I am a danger to myself and anyone.
My voice is a sling shot and I'm always shooting in the dark.
My thoughts are like boomerangs, leaving my mind just to turn around and slap me in the face. BANG!
I lay cold in a puddle of my own doubt until I'm ready to get back up.
I always start right up like the engine of my dad's old Ford truck.
I am so diligently focused on faking being fine.
My sanity always being chased by my insanity, running circles in my mind.
Most of the time I can't feel what I'm feeling because I am living dead.
I can't hear my whirring thoughts because to my own psyche I've gone deaf. 
I hungrily crave closure. I no longer wish to want what I can never possess. 
Studying the curvature of your jaw line, smelling your delectable scent.
Hearing your sultry voice after so long has brought to the surface my unyielding feelings once again. 
You are a race and finding closure is the finish line I have yet to cross.
Closure has become your defense and my defeat.