i can feel everthing, but i know nothing that i can understand. i know what discomfort feels like at four in the morning when i’m desperate, but i know not what to say. it is not that i ever wanted to be understood, because i can’t explain this tension the way that i feel it. i like the way it is in my mind. how we’re living our seperate lives, but i can only imagine together, something whole and unforgiving like faithful sinners (even on sunday morning). i can feel the stagnant air when you wake and the way static flows through your swollen veins, like a broken television set never to regain its signal. not now. not ever. i know that i am wallowing, but i do not know what for. i am thirsty for you. my love escapes your every pore, you are not as thirsty for me as i am for you. i am stranded on shore, my ship has already sunk. if gravitiy decided not to keep me down any longer i would float to the heavens where everything is gold and forgiving, but i will not leave without you. here is my offering. i want to be your heaven true and belonging. i want to be your gold. i am as sure as the broken psalm i recite behind closed doors every morning while looking in the sunken eyes of my ghost every morning. i want to put this thought to rest and never let it rise again. we are seperate. we are parts that will never make a whole.