Addiction as Expectation of Surviving Transformation

Is anything that comes back
To restart an addiction?
Days, life, music, opium?

Opium, classically,
Life, for sure, mother of all
Addictions, original

Hunger, music possibly,
But days are just revolving,
Aren’t they? Then again, jonesing

For another, another,
And another, the thousands,
Tens of thousands of days lived

In the mean human lifespan,
Isn’t that an addiction?
Not only to keep living,

But to keep watching the days,
Watching for the one that breaks
Out of the pattern, this one,

No this one, maybe this one,
Each return establishing
The sedate, wave-lapping change

You’ve labeled time, and each tick
Offering the fresh suspense
That this is the one that breaks

Out of time into chaos,
Open-ended change, the one
That escapes longing. And then?