Dawning Creations

If the puddles could speak,
they would spill it all.
Tear stained cheeks,
loving what can’t come to life.

Lost in a dizzy ruin,
strolling sunken streets we would amble on
Stumbling over cracks, ditching weighted sidewalks,
the restrictions.

I don’t know where I am.
What’s real.

The pain is so deep
even as it’s wanting,
bobbing like  a buoy.

Meaning nothing.

I don’t want to meet their gaze.
I don’t want their pity.

I want to have what’s lost,
in my lonely selection.
My selective addiction,
Only needing what I can’t have.

I want nothing but to start seeing
through the downpour.

I have to feel this.
I just want to feel it alone