I ensnared myself in the inescapable business of not caring when the undying desperation of my heart reached a heaviness of fate that my weary wanderings were unable to withstand.
Without second thought, I locked the doors and buried the rusty key deep inside of the abyss that lived inside of me, where even my own search is incapable of yielding discovery.
Icy, stone walls now diligently keep under wraps my intolerable feelings of inadequacy and guard my outside excursions from the influence of any sense of care that may cause the perfectly manufactured wall of secrecy to crumble.
I could knock or wiggle the doorknob, but all honesty reminds me that anything left that may answer inquiry would be an emotion to beyond undesirability to warrant acknowledgement.
It is possible that I made the correct decision and maybe the fate of not feeling was truly the safest option left to me,
but even with all longings of my  heart oh so securely guarded,
I can feel the heaviness of a desperate ache holding me to the ground.
It may be under lock and key, but it is there,
weighing me to this fate, ensnaring me in hopelessness, and keeping me from being truly free.
I am weary from carrying all of this dead weight inside of me.

I'm oh so nostalgic
For those moments with you
That we have not yet shared.

I''m replaying memories
of journeys with you
that we have not yet begun.

Somehow,
there was no longer enough room for the emptiness inside me.
Pure desperation to escape the void pushed me through the only door I knew to lead me outside.
I walked, I stumbled, through clusters of stray leaves that crunched beneath my bare feet.
I inhaled the brisk fall air that numbed my toes though what I wished it'd do was numb my memories.
and then I ran; passion for escape swelling up like the thunderclouds above me
until the rain breaks through and begins falling upon my face.
The rain drops feel like truth washing the lies away.
The water floods me like the realization that  maybe I'm not running away.
Maybe I'm not looking for to escape the emptiness.
Maybe I'm searching for cover; maybe, I'm simply searching to fill it with you.

For years I've been told that to love is to fall,

to fall, to be stripped of control.

But, what I have found on the journey of loving you is that love,

It feels an awful lot more like landing...

Arriving home at last; after a
                                                 Long
                                                            ­             Hard
                                                            ­                                 Fall.

Loving you is the safety net that caught me.
*To love is to land.