Craving Samsara

It was supposed to be him
her, it
it was supposed to be every time,
every person
the same consciousness.

Every experience not shared was a point of jealousy,
a point of pain.

Slow death of the one who wasn't satisfied,
but how to be? How, when life itself runs out?
How, when a choice is to be made on what to live
a choice with unknown repercussions
a choice that leaves the thought of what might have been
no matter what?

The lanes of the road
the intersections
the branches in a tree
the wind's direction...
all acutely felt
all a source of pain
because all can't be had.

Living it all a million times,
living it all through a million eyes
a million hearts
a million souls...
living it all until becoming sick
until no more can be had
and then some more


because not living it hurts as much
as being condemned to living it all.