Outlet

I speak in riddles so no harm may come to you.

Cryptic and fluent, my words, they flow straight from my soul.

Wounded only by neglect and exhaustion.

Don't you realize that the worst thing you did was nothing?

The worst thing you could say, is nothing.

I am no one's silent door mat. I am worth far more than that.

How I long for you to see.

There truly is so much to me.

)No time, no desire, im content. Be close so I know I have you. But please be silent. Be lifeless....

Sometimes I look for you...

Sometimes I look for you.

Where are you?

I know that you exist, my heart and soul bear your name.

My needs are the proof of you, they speak of your destiny to fill them.

And yet these needs that so desperately need to be met, the ache, is inescapable.

Agony envelopes my soul.

For knowing your existence, is bitter. Where are you?

Why am I here, unavoidably exiled to endure a unity of exasperating simplicity and surface level depth?

The needs and desires within me, I know to be warranted and valid, cannot cease their cries.

Deep within my soul there is a need for depth and concern, intrigue, and questions of genuine origin.

Why would my sanctified union not be the exact place to have my thirst for this depth slated?

Where are the quenching waters to hydrate my heart and soul?

If it is not in my union where else must I turn?

Perhaps the answer is within the question:

Where are you?

My conclusion is that the deepest needs and desires, the essential soul-feeding nutrients I seek, will simply never be quenched this side of the heavens.

Simply a burden of such passion is too massive to bear, this need of depth to be filled, is a not an honor for any of the earth. For the one who can quench, is jealous, and wants to be sought after for the honor of fulfilling these needs.

How I long for you.