addiction's edge

Keep it on the edge of addiction 
I never say
I can stop at any time;
I just do.

Not every time, though.
Selective select.

Every time
it's just habit.
No thought: I do not.
I unelect.
No bother, no need
- no want. 

So then stop. 

For now, for me
habit's just not enough
to amount to real urge 
to reap like a crop.

It's just maintenance, then.
Neither art nor craft. Such
procedure won't serve. 
I would rather sustain

On water and breath,
and grin and laugh 
and wince, and pass
until time's glass fills.
'Til sour and deeper materials
salt with ache to pain, and sweeten 
the bitter pills 

of nothing at all. 

I can hold me midair for some
time, 'til I choose 
the moment
so fair 
to fall. 

To let go. To use. 

While I wait for real urge,
I prefer to wait. It's a selfish 
and disciplined mastery. Bate 
one breath unsated and sure, 
and breathe out. Take the next
as it comes.

I'll appreciate more
and more - when in finally no doubt,
temptation occurs. 

I will nurse it and let it. I'll draw 
it out as it draws
me in.
I could stop
any time, but I never would
stop any time 

like then.

I like to appreciate 
more than habit
and laziness has 
on it to spend. 

I keep it on the edge
of addiction, to ride so much
sweeter for all that I walk.
I look up in the sun, again
and lengthen my stride

at the edge of addiction,
just 
a little inside.