it's having no one...

it's having no one to talk to due to everyone always falls through when they're supposed to be flush... n yet, every time the bottom of their words metaphorically allows expression to descend with so called trusts... leaving the tongue without someone to talk to as days are silenced by the hush... seems the loneliness tends to confront the comfort to know where self stands on luv... as emotion lingers on ones own sitting around confused by the lack of use discombobulating thoughts left to lust... thinking who can one turn to to simply speak of the day just spent feeling the fluttering of being what jus was... twisted n gutted as nuts n bolts shake loose from the well being of the mind's comprehension of what the mind believed what once was... flustered on the presence of drifting inward as frustration settles in to the solitude as a must... so tired of giving to a new face that becomes an attachment to smiles enjoying a lil time in a repeat of what comes to end prior to the understanding of taking moments wanting not to cuss... like, fuuuuuck.!. losing the feel of wanting the need of someone to ever get close enough to reach for a touch... it only turns passions against desires in a heart stalling out coming in from the slush... conversation jus isn't as fun with jus anyone smacking gums n babbling lips that bruise the texture of willingness n such... it's having no one to lean in to who makes a difference to the way the pulse races with excitement n rests with an ease that sets a mood made to remain clutch...