Twelve Days

Serene,

i picture you

in the Peace

youve been seeking

since that first night 

you chose to reach out.

maybe you thought

i wouldnt reach back

or thought, that

maybe i would, and well, lets just see what comes from this exchange of quarantined hearts under attack.

As it turns out

I am perhaps,

Far  Too  Loud,

FAr Too Eager

for too many people;

i base that only on how

i have 

far too often

been left 

like sands

to a desert

desolate

A living representation

of contradiction-

im too easily present to 

to ever be missed or 

needed- unless as a last recourse,

ofcourse.

I Love like an ocean so vast

that my voice fails to 

reach the shores of the hearts who

once claimed to beat so wildly for me, 

the weather or time or economy isnt right and its just too much to be 

somewhere, 

if its

anywhere near me. 

on a shelf 

somewhere else 

is where im gonna be, when you reach

and im finally

nowhere to be seen.