Perhaps there's a reason. Hopefully there's a reason.
I pray there's a reason for the way I am.
To be constantly craving something that will never reach my hands.
A warmth of a another despite not being able to bear the touch of it.
I dream sometimes that no matter how much I thrashed around they wouldn't leave.
That there is someone in the world who is born to give me the blind love I've yearned for all my life.
A person, no matter how wounded, would only ever hold me in the most gentle touch.
Like a leaf holds the morning dew.
I hear the heavens laugh at me sometimes.
In this silence I hear them mock my misery,
And sigh.
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