Maybe if you throw me at the bottom of an ocean I’ll be deep again, or maybe if you throw me up so high I’ll finally fly. Poor can be lack of feelings, poor can be lack of expression, poor can be lack of understanding and poor can be me. Sadness can be sometimes blue, sadness can also paint you black even if your roots are golden.
It’s okay. You don’t need to always shine. It takes special people to see your blaze and it would be preferable if they’re blind. Not necessarily visually impaired, but devoid of light. Maybe they’ll tell you that you’re not as poor and can actually make them feel something. It’s scary when you carry nostalgia for a specific thing that you have no eye sight for. No eye sight except at the back of your mind.

The burning desire for something that is unknown is like searching for something invisible with the naked eye. I feel naked, naked and so full of everything.
I am driven by notion.
I’ll be merged with the darkness.
I’ll be surging with the waves.
You’ll feel me in the gentle breeze,
Smell me between the leaves after rainfall,
and you won’t be as petrified to take one step closer.