How deeply do you feel unloved
when the torrents outside are knocking,
begging with arms outstretched,
grumbling with fear?
What's on the other side of fear?
Nothing.
And yet, how deeply do you feel loneliness
when you listen to the same sad songs
and sing sadfully along
and hope for an answer to your call?
Who are you waiting to call?
No one.
Then why, why do you feel so unfocused,
so mercurial with each thought trickling like
beads on a Sunday morning dewdrop,
waiting on an epiphany to arrive?
Where do you find inspiration?
Nowhere but here -
Here, inside the heart you thought you never had
that you thought for so long would never possess
that they said was only for others
that we said we'd all share,
and then why, why do we feel so deeply?
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