Every reminder that you exist pulls me back.
I’m captivated, entranced by everything that you are,
Whether you are truly my long awaited oasis
Or just another desert trick played on weary eyes:
I will probably never know.
I cried for you, whatever that means.
If it lends substance to an empty sentiment
If it touched your heart like I would caress your cheek
But you were always leagues above,
You pull the strings from behind the curtains:
Tell me, is it lonely?
You’ve got your seeds planted,
And you harvest the attention: impersonally.
You keep at arm’s length, coming and leaving
Like a drug that leaves memories of highs and lows
And subtle, modest in-betweens.
Happiness is so eluding, its presence is so relative
To life, to love, and to the optimism inherent in us all.
So, put your everything into nothing, let your hopes fly
Without foundation or restraint, freedom from prescience
If loving is naïve, I’ll carry on blindly.
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Submission Name: Harvest of the Blind
