Deep Thoughts: Poverty

lonelinesss is an orifice in your soul. a hole you'll let anyone fill. regardless of if they're capable.

touch is the map to your center. secret routes and unfinished bridges that lead to somewhere no one has ever been.

or will ever be.

done with selling yourself to merchants of the flesh, you labor under the burden of emotional poverty. a cocoon you can't penetrate. wings fluttering. never to taste the wind.

you became, yet couldn't be. as you are. as you have been.

stalk without a flower. pen without ink.

we are. always were what longs to break out of. but hasn't the means.

ages old embraces still resonate. tuning the heart to the locations of what it craves.

halting the hour to compensate for the years we've wasted.

only time as it departs these lives. and love as it admits how weak it is.

because we are nothing we haven't always been. strangers in friend's clothing. ourselves. them.

it need not decide. only just train my mind to want this prison.

as the hour is cut into quarters, so too, the life should be. as time takes such graces with the boundaries of its presense. so too should we.

that i can't change, but it's always changing me.

that the ladder stops at some point and and i'm trapped somewhere between where i've come from and where i'd wanted to be.