Listen* for it.
Whats trying to be found,
it was within grasp,
but lost when not put to use.
Where is it?
Why won’t it come back?
Insanity is beginning to creep with out it
please come back
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                     to me...
                                                          ­                                                                 ­                    before I lose myself with you.
All that's left is apologies and tithes,
amends that should have been extended long ago.
Words with out direction that need to spoken.
                                                         ­                                                                 ­           I feel you near
but constantly
                                                                ­                                                               you remain evasive.
Constantly craving                                                                                   our past,
when you would drift to the edge,
tip forward showcases,
and present the different reality
                                                                ­                                                    *of who I am.