I don't think loneliness is a feeling.

It is the clouds, the sky, the mountains.

The terminal reality we share for a moment is but a cosmic dance.

Staring into the abyss, yet there is no darkness. Just brown eyes.

How do I start when I don't even no where to begin.

The end of myself will be found with tears and roses.

The end of myself, I hope I left them with something.

Hoping they feel more, than what I had them read.

Courage? I doubt it.

Fear? I know so

I wear my pride like a morning robe.

It keeps me warm, it keeps comfortable, it keeps me from being loved.

I’m sad and so I think about our cultural conditioning.

Being only as happy as our screens tells us to be.

Can't you see what I am trying to say?

Can't you see the invisible is here?

God is on your doorstep asking for directions.

I think.

I suffer.

I write

I dream.

A perfect strategy to find his truth.

If words are needed to explain the feeling.

Why can’t I just feel?

The truth is, the love I have been running from.

The truth is, I am scared to love.

I don't want to fall again.

I don’t want to rise again, on my own.

ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ — ᴘᴏᴇᴛ — ᴛʜɪɴᴋᴇʀ