Addiction to Imperfection

Psychology

It is not for the whiny

It is soft, never condescending,

A constant endeavor to be apprehending 

It craves an earful of language,

A vision of your soul

It can be a preacher of the cerebrum,

A crooner of the cerebellum

It breathes the labyrinth of perception,

A caress of human connection 

The mind has no lucidity,

But slowly unravels, unwinds, untangles, is free

Humanity, it seems, is in need of psychology

I need to be immersed 

I’ve an addiction to imperfection,

Which fuels my need for the very connection

I sigh

I cry

I sob

I hunger

Without my addiction I would be one to suffer

I need to know the people 

That lie behind the false face

I need psychology

And perhaps, someday

psychology will need me