The silence's end...

Maybe it's in the way a touch could heal the pieces of me that's afraid to feel... With fingertips rescuing me from the outside jus wanting me to surface for a moment that's all too real... It's like I've never felt truth supply an antidote that soothes more than my skin... As I'm trapped within myself when all i ever wanna do is live... It could possibly be i fear myself slowly giving in to the silence's end... Able to reason with what i cannot control n accept the possibility of a friend... There's nothing broken behind the eyes where use trembles not knowing who's who... Thoughts jus assemble a false state of comfort so self is safe from the heart cut loose... Free to express a truce without the tension that struggles in the deepest pits covered by hope... Or it might be I'm jus too far gone on the other side to realize I'm a way waste when dying alone... Stroked is the nerve that secretly awaits a sensation opened up by a simple graze... Flowing in sync with the details buried that want to be resurrected for another to embrace what truly needs to be saved... So a memory doesn't havta live in solitude creating imaginary twists pretending to be ok... To be restored to a different kinda normal with a physical connection that triggers depths to reemergence from a hole i cannot seem to escape...  Ambitious is the emotion simmering to witness a face changing through the yrs... Never to leave no matey the weight of tears... Perhaps a distinctive voice carries a tone to awaken a lost passion my mind refuses to fetch... Digging in without scaring off the remains of what's left... The willing fragments resting in restless patience to finally be used... There's another world under the metaphorical armor that has a desire to move... In a leisure state of harmless flirtations interest comes n goes... As wants confronts needs demanding a chance to prove self has grown... It's a stranger craved to cure self of the damage self is petrified of... To bate all to a like of some sort to evolve into luv...