Hopelessly Reaching

I stretch my fingers...farther, farther, farther than they can go,

they reach for dreams, for moments behind me and things I don’t know

places to go, Somehwere East, somewhere not here, but I’m homesick

For a place I never knew

homesick, darling, sick of being lost in life

full of dreams I’ve got love but no Light for,

stumbling in the cold, in the dark, in the silence, in the screaming

self identified teeming, bugs in my ears, bugs in the programming,

I want to love myself

I want to find beauty in the things I create

they are just things to me, just ugly, hideous factions of mistakes,

Hellbent on finding purpose,

there is no purpose if the apocalypse is what waits for us in the end,

I want to feel something greater than forging papers atop eachother, lines and dots and inkspills, I want to turn them into something more than mistakes and horrors that fix the soles of my feet on a pedestal to talk to strangers who don’t have ears

I want to love something that isn’t part of the system,

to love someone platonically, to feel warmth in the place where it doesn’t dance anymore

I want something more.