I would shrink to a cellular level to reach your soul
  And kiss it back to life if it were ever   possible

cells work from knowin
your words be devotion
hope you're feeling if you're jokin
the hells unspoken
are felt in each motion
giving all you in connotation
while reaching your plan spread open
remember too well
you are your favorited treasured notion
until we are all proper emotion

i've been texting people for a connection.
our bodies search for vibrations,
short and electric but its an elaborate show.
who are these folks behind the curtains?
and through these notes, i am certain.
i cant write anything of substance.
i keep seeing your name and i try to change it
into something insignificant.
but that which we call a rose,
right?
i keep trying to escape it
but my handwriting is no legible font.
no respectable medium to my professor.
i cant keep in between the margins
how would they know the amount?
did i plagiarize the way i wrote
"I miss you." ?
so, we type.
remove the writer. its about the content.
did i cite your absence right?
is this journalism, biography or *******?
it must not true, ****.
but my fingertips reach
short distances on the keys
of my devices
and we type.
hashtag notice us, hashtag test us back,
are we connected yet?