What Would I Say to You?

I spend my nights searching for sleep but still I find earthquakes and firestorms and tidal waves. My retinas burn and then are cleansed by the waves that crash over my aching, broken body. I find the will to pick up the pen to put pressure to the wound and yet I am still wrong, the pen will never cover the dense population of this laceration; it is meant to last forever. I reply however, nothing is meant to last forever. But how simple expressions can be wrong. A safe position I search for to correct the assembly line, hidden from the overnight caretaker. I am spent like the hidden dollar in the jeans washed too many times without warning. I am spent like emotion searching for a maker, a match. I should have had warning. I am the dollar wishing I was still with those jeans; I am a white washed soul. I am searching for your warmth. I know where you are and who you are, what you sound like, what you look like. I know exactly where I want to be. Please reach out to me. I have noticed your eyes from memory. I have been spent so many times since our time, and I am on the other side of the world. Ignore all of the endless possibilities, as a dollar can find its way back to the one who spent it with the most beautiful intention. That is something you can never forget. You had the intention and I cannot fool myself. This life could be a possibility and I could find my way.