So tired....

Somewhere I can find it...hoping...longing, reaching towards the distant stars. I want to feel things so powerful that it shakes my insides. When will it ever stop...? Just like my breath it keeps going. Over and over...powerful forces pushing me down, thrusting me up against wall after wall. Is it possible to beat the tide?

Somehow I want to reach it...that infinite space I can call my own. Black on white; a powerful mass of things yet to be requiring domination. Hands on keys, eyes lost somewhere else. This belongs to me.

The Greatest Denial

There is a mystery tangling around you, a chasm of deeds that hang suspended in the air like dust. If you sniff them, then you find yourself catching a wisp of dryness, a scent that reminds you of a sleeping wood in the dead of winter. A taste and the back of your tongue is suddenly longing for water, parched and unwilling to be quenched. With a touch, your skin tightens and no matter how far your eyes search all they do is water and twitch as if standing in the deepest maze of old, weathered books.
Your senses cannot find you the answer for what is undeniably all around you. A feeling so overwhelming that it stops you short of breath and your heart skips a bit. How is it possible to gain the truth, the truth that is so bitter?
Either you chase it, or you pretend it was never there to begin with.