We

I don't know what it is, this simple bare necessity that my soul craves for. I've been told - at times infinite- to search for it in God, and I will be sure to strike gold. My pining does not arise from an empty pocket, lacking warmth from the presence of a solid faith. My faith remains deeply rooted, believing in an ethereal good that backs every happening in our life -good-alright-or-bad, staunchly. Nevertheless, my angst is an arousal of moments set on repeat that seem to feel nothing but exhaustion at the end of a race, lacking the ability to feel satiated.

Is there never to be another who would fit right?

Is there never to be one that gets it?

Will there never to be one who see's no wrong in you, and you don't in them either?

Will one person keep on falling short in the eyes of another, while themselves finding faults in an interested another?

Why does this hollowed squeal -one becoming increasingly familiar- have to come to life again?

Why must these rounds of unanswerable questions -laid to rest just some time ago- breathe again?

Why must this body -heart, mind, and soul- yet again, plead so devastatingly to an unknown audience?

Leave on this aspirated thought, I guess I shall, and let my emotions bleed themselves out one more time in preparation for lessons more to be learned ahead. Not a pleasant journey -this undertaking- knowing all that I do now. It never is.

Silly Self Sufficient All Knowing Educated Sensitive Beings; We.

Lene Marlin