It's the one question, they all ask.

"What do you want most?"

The small voice within asks.

It's rhetorical.

"What do you want?"

You comply.

Passive,

you're always passive.

You know what you want.

Damn well you know what you want.

The waves crash on the sand.

You're hungry for something,

something more than he is giving you.

You want out.

You want to be free.

To see everything.

To feel a strange lovers hands running up and down your body.

To feel the smoke inhaled through your lungs.

You just want to breath.

To live.

"You're alive" he says.

But are you living, is the question.