Category: Writers Block
I can hear you calling my name..
Is it really your voice or my imagination?
I strain to reach you,
But you're just out of my grasp,
Elusive, like smoke
Drifting toward me, then farther away,
Blown apart by circumstances.
But i'll blow your way soon,
Fall into your arms with many stories to tell,
Bittersweet tears falling from my eyes.
To be with you is what I want more than air,
More than water, more than anything.
But to be with you now means leaving this behind,
This beautiful mess of crooked smiles and tough talk,
This complex world of cockiness and self-deprication,
This existance of masks and voluntary invulnerability.
But those arms that reach for me will hold me as I cry,
As I struggle to remember but refuse to forget,
As I reach for you in return, with longing,
Whisper my name... that's all I want to hear.
If you have not titled this poem yet, perhaps you should call it Longing for Belonging.