Cold

::poem, copyright mine::


Aching eyes that see
Visions of what should be
But isn’t. Is not there, does not matter
Realise when you trace your fingers
Upon the roughness of the stone-etched surface
The mystery of the soul
The irresistible power
Of desire
Of a person that can cause you
So much pain and suffering
Yet
You love him
In ways so deep you cannot even understand
I thought I caught
A glimpse of him in that blue shirt
But it wasn’t
Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be
Beyond imagination
Through the threshold between illusion and reality
Grasping the warmth between the covers
Invigorating emotions pulse through my soul
Still running from what is real
Still wanting to be a part of
What is you and me
Not knowing though
The meaning of my fleeting thoughts
The symbology of my nighttime illusions
You call me
Again
Or am I calling you too?