Greed

The hunger I was born with
to receive,
and so the need to give
is what I leave.

The move to God and lovers
is the same:
the need to intertwine,
to speak of love,
freed up
to praise and wonder.

And I have loved,
gave up my rags of virtue
and was clothed.
My need for food was fed.
I received comfort.

Alive and, yet, now dead,
since soon I felt no hunger,
I quickly bled
my blood into the stream.

The poison spread
and gave itself to ocean,
wind and sun
until there was no color.

Too much hurts.