listen. there’s an urgency to my words.

listen to the quickened breathing and the raw crackle of a parched throat. i’ve been running

running to find something like you. With that laughable way about you. running to find something with your sense of self and dainty curl that falls before your right eyebrow.

listen. there’s an urgency to my heart.

listen as with each beat is an agonizied pulse screaming for acceptance into your bloodstream.

beating out of rythym with different strangers each night. where I hurry my body and reduce myself to bones.

listen. there’s an urgency to my fingerstips.

listen as they cut through to find a skin like yours again. gliding along the goosebumps of excited souls that are only looking to enjoy my hands at night.

listen. there’s an urgency to my home.

listen as with each morning a quiet creak of another footstep I won’t be calling again.

because a night in my bed is another knife digging deeper at the scratch paper of a life form that I can never see again.

listen. listen as I try to fill a hole left by you by filling the holes of strangers looking for their something, too.

listen. listen as I try to guide along my soul and others through a maze of uncertainties and frustrations that I nor them shall ever appear on the other side of.

listen. listen as I am trapped in a vortex of loss and love and more loss.

listen. listen as I grasp any sort of reality with each and every passing hour with passing strangers. looking for something, something like you.

listen. listen as they search for their something, too.