With heaving sighs I tear away at my last defences,
Trains of scattered thought all heading to a solitary hill,
Uncovering seated emotions leading to ever-higher fences,
Forever stealing gasps of life in images that are all so still.
I wish that I could talk to you as clearly as the thoughts that are screaming loud in my head, a day would pass without the constant need for this intoxicated courage to string words together into a web of false pretences to capture the intricate seams of your coveted heart.
I wish that I was able to suffer in anywhere else but the cold isolation of my own thoughts, a day would pass where I could process these tormented feelings into some meaningful displays of emotion to battle for the most intimate of your affections.
WiFi problems, first world problems, just as relevant as a discoloured emblem, veering away from the first step into Harlem.