The Passions of my soul are long lived while Hidden

Wake up.
I’m sorry, it’s late.
But I’ve got to talk.
I’m seeing through my mind.
Almost too much,
I can’t even remember what it feels like to see.
There’s something missing.
I’m longing for contact and company,
In such a way I don’t think I’ve known.
I’m drifting,
And there’s this hole on the horizon,
Shadowed by the ambiguity that we named the future.
I think I’m going crazy.
Well, I’m pretty convinced.
It wasn’t a hard sell by any means.
It feels strange to label myself with such a vague word.
I mean, the only connotation we get from that is bad and different.
Which means,
I’m just separating myself even more.
I keep pushing against the world,
And it’s starting to lose its ground.
These revelations are falling in from all around,
Regardless of time and space.
They bring along these sentiments of spirituality,
Along with the drive for change and a multifaceted existence.
I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.
I suppose I just want to hear myself sort it out.
I think it’s just a willfull suspension of disbelief, to quote a prophet.
I’m just running down a street,
But it’s looking like a dead end.
Worst case scenario?
I start over.
I just want you to feel me.
I want so much out of life that I’m never going to get.
I’m waiting on my golden-soul girl,
Waiting for such a long time.
I’m lusting after that moment I make the jump and connect.
With life, you, or myself.
I’m sorry.
I don’t know why I woke you up.
I just, felt like a kid.
Full of wonder and awe and genuine love and passion.
I wanted to share it.
But you’re drugged and held.
I understand.
It gets lonely, is all.
Sitting in your mind,
Waiting for the world to make sense.
I’m sorry.
I’ll leave you now.
I doubt I’ll hear you complain.
But that doesn’t make you lesser, by any means.
Just go to sleep, dear.
I’ll be okay.

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