Crowds

Sometimes I can't breathe in crowds because I can hear what they're thinking. And I don't understand why they can't feel their souls. I loose mine in the chaos of trying to exist in society, but then when I die enough I hear her cry out to save me. When money and stress chain me to this real world in a way that makes my heart constantly beat sorrow, I can only find my bliss by connecting with my body and the words I love you. You ask why I say it so much, I can only explain all I do is feel. Feel everything, every molecule in my beating and vibrating body with joy or pain or whatever concoction my consciousness can imagine up. I only know how to bleed them and try to follow the lightness. For one day of auto-pilot makes me die a little more in a way that I cannot describe to anyone who has never freed themselves. I see the way you look at me and I know you don't understand why it's so hard for me to be like you. I never wished I could, but never imagined how painful and lonely my path could be. I stopped writing because I was connecting with my heart in a different way, when I realized I was always alone the words came back.