My Hands

As I sit here waiting on love. I realize that this chance may have moved me into this higher account of who I am and what I have evolved to be. I want these dreams of mine to follow through but I equally need you in my space. I need you to talk to me in a conscious voice and listen to the words that I have to speak. in return I need your ideas to move me into a place of greater existence. I have never felt foolish wanting you. I have never felt foolish asking you to need me as much a I would want you. I have tried for your guidance and credibility of unwavering knowledge and I have yet to seek a greater understanding of what is happening. In the first days I nested and awaited your arrival and you never came you only sent clues of vibrations that put us in a place of togetherness. I loved you in those moments, but I hated you afterwards because you left me empty. You filled up a cup for me to spill out of and you then left me empty. How grateful I was to imagine you there and yet you left me empty and unencumbered. My love was exposed and I have not seen your face but you know fully who I am. The anger that engorges every orifice of my being has caused me to actually have blood on my hands.