Channels and scores of emotion bubble up inside:
It allows you to breathe,
And soon enough it becomes something you can’t hide.
It is the air you breathe,
It gives you life,
Life sustaining oxygen.
It is like water,
Flowing deep beneath your skin;
But for the life of you, you can’t hold it in.
It is the wind you seek,
It blows you in a direction,
One that you do not know;
But it never takes you where you do not want to go.
It is a fire in you;
It burns up inside your soul,
Giving you hope, yet taking control.
Elemental in its presence,
Basic, yet forming your essence.
That is a dream; a vision.
And without one, your life is a sure fail mission.

I find myself in a reality thoroughly mired;
Hard wired to this dire strait of a habit: to remain inactive;
Actively, though, I find myself being rendered blunt,
Thoroughly ineffective.
Effectively seeing my being contorted into shapes ignoble;
Progressively rendered moot,
Thwarted by my avante garde a la feeble.

And as I face that reality, really all I want to do is
Relay these reverberations that
Go thump! thump! whenever we meet;
Convey these fizzles that turn my stomach outside and in
Whenever we share an embrace to greet.
Can I rely on my grammar to share my emotions?
Or are her stories old news now?
I guess what I'm saying is:
Can I speak?

Can I, nay, may I deliver my formal interjection?
That my emotion towards you is still a subject;
That I'm hoping in my heart that the idea of "us" does not
Come across as abject;
Or imitate a noun and become an idea that is abstract?
Because what I'm going for here is for our souls to find contact;
And as I fill these blank spaces with hope;
What I hope most for,
Is that my sincerity really comes to the fore;
That you understand that I'm not here selling dreams and lifestyles;
But rather that I want to bring them to life before your eyes.

So can I speak?
Can I tell you of the hope you carry?
Can I tell you of the joy you bring?
Can I speak? Tell you everything?
If not, can I at least tell you
How crazy you drive this thing? (point to heart)

I don a heavy heart nowadays;
I smile, but it is limited;
Because my heart cries, I'm not surprised though;
Under these conditions, it is warranted.
Eyes stare, unwanted;
Smiles flare, directed;
Hearts lay bare, un-accosted;
All of them blind to the truth;
That being that my heart belongs, somewhere;
And till reunion, it will continue to long, remain nowhere;
For the rightful owner already exists.
I could fight it; problem is that this feeling just persists;
It grows stronger;
And to be honest I don't want to fight any longer.

I own a soul dismantled;
Joyless, confused.
But what can I do?
My physical being refuses;
If I do not let you grow,
I might end up having to let you go, forever;
I can't risk that though,
I need us together;
Yes, two hearts, sustaining one soul,
Just as two halves make a whole;
That is the forever we deserve,
The one I believe we both want.
But while I wait for forever,
A heavy heart and a dismantled soul are mine;
Waiting to begin our "Until the end of time".

It is believed to exist;
It is often what we as people strive for;
Something for which we are prepared to persist.
Perfection is a drug, perfection is a demon;
Perfection is what often makes us forget that we are human;
By virtue of expectation,
We engulf one another in clouds of smoke;
Creating a screen for ourselves,
Causing one another to choke;
We make it a burden for others;
Make their lives unbearable,
Yet we ourselves never want to bear this yoke.

Perfection as an ideal isn’t bad,
It has brought man to, and through,
Millennia where men believe in themselves.
Man, as a creature, will never fly,
But we have inventions that bring us perfectly close.
We’ve created environments that allow us to do things at lightning speed;
We’ve more or less streamlined our every need.

But that’s what we don’t get!
Perfection, however lovely, will forever be an ideal;
We all need to understand that it isn’t real;
Like most things on earth, perfection is relative.
I’m not , for one moment, suggesting that we stop being competitive!
No, not at all!
All I suggest is that we stop burdening one another;
Be it you friend, wife, husband, father, mother, sister or brother.
The societal norm of giving each other 10 crosses at a time,
With no apparent reason, is only going to cause the issue to deepen;
Propagate itself, as we bid humanity adieu.
Do not expect what you cannot give,
That, for me, is the better way to live;
And if you can give something to others,
Try and not expect it back always.
For we are all human,
And can only dream of perfection in any case.......