It is only that I have seen the real pain poisoning man’s mouth, the burdens wandering, the day they remember speech for the greeting of the sun. It is when they dream that they get what they want, yet all so often the battle creeps in to wake them, to remind them to run. Eyes wide open with mouths sewn shut.

Speak to me my love, with your eyes instead, lest the soul weigh down the combustion within your butterfly heart, whisper notions and I will understand each uttering phrase… for you and I, know not separation, we are family, friends, lovers… we are Gods my love.

So in the midst of the current, lay on my hand, because for you I will never forget how to fly, even without wings or gusts to guide me. For you, I will know, so that when the time comes to halt, I shalt share my meta with you.

I can be the mundane muse that trickles the innate to whisper back into your ear, because even with mouths sewn shut, this song has never been sung so beautifully and Akasha has never been so full.

And all you did, was open your eyes.

All I did, was wander.

Loneliness to me does not have a pure definition.

It’s knowing that no one can hold onto me for I cannot hold myself long enough to feel the freedom of life, it’s being in the company of the stable whilst feeling like an unsteady lifeline on mute.

It’s abandonment before being abandoned, it’s having left myself before I met myself, for I have never truly become.

It’s alienation and alienating, both within and without, it’s hiding whilst shining and fading whilst visible.

It's exposed shadowed numbness while your world finds your heartbeat, its death while breathing.

It's unlovable daunting trauma, and now… it’s me, the unwavering indescribable description of a rigid self. Me.