If every poet wants to be loved why do they need every feeling but love everything that is essential becomes contradictory find every word in the dictionary to send our message fully infused With the subsequent substance with a enveloping past that you give power to with each glance a symbiotic connection hungry for attention a powerful grip with feelings of strong misguided blinded moral film that covers your skin irresistible until you come back to your writing and you realize what you just wrote dig deep down and see your true depth in a paradox of perspectives thoughts bounce off waves of reflecting inception overloading my cornea flood of images I spill into text what's the imprint that was left try so hard to fit in thinking they're excluding you when it turns out I'm really excluding you corrupted excess of expression poisoning cycle of nervous thought of my inner dialogue separate me from a clear view with the greifing fog try to hide try to distract but never dodge three the highs and lows even and odds I always see the effect just hopelessly blind to the cause shocking withdrawls lost in the in flames dowsed a brave heart with callouses made of cowardice after everything a poet really does just want to be loved....