I can never decide if it
is you who carves your name in my heart or I ?
I surf into the chaos from love to madness
Arms outstretched trying to clutch some elegant
universe, just beyond my grasp.
They say that all sparks will burn out in the end
This lonely proposition comes dark & mysterious
Something of which I am often accused more than I am comfortable
I welcome myself home
I long to measure a discernable degree with which I matter.
Mostly I find people dwelling in the wallpaper of regret & distraction
Lost in prospect.
What's "meant to be" will always fall short.
What if what we need is here ?