I see you barely had to think of a title there.
There you go.
I see you and I see you.
Is that enough for channeling my inner fears?
My plausible thoughts that endlessly become overwhelming.
This is the detached version of reality.
The emotions that fog it up from day zero to day two.
As if I wished to be heard in the darkness, nothing I bare to happen there.

The turning point is the purpose of constant shadow figures.
The void I hear, hear ye.
The void I am.
The void becomes the pond I am.
Can I appreciate your soul once without crushing it on the keys of the desk?
Can I appreciate the soul you’ve given me, ever so dearly.
Desperately, chasing for love while you are chasing holes in your heart.
Love is love for the love is closely love and tied together is love.

Be in a hallway where the choices matter, but the comfort doesn’t.
It is uncomfortable to be the comfort of the confrontational.
Take a soul, and I’ll give you mine.
These pauses are cold, but soulless.