supreme felicity

I’m not a saint.
matters of heart I fail to grasp
and the context of reality prevails

have I lost what felt so right?
or is heaven playing a trick on me.

now,
what surrounds my brain
is the overpopulated picture of you
haunting my bedtime

memories.
is one scary thing if it eats into you
its getting to my nerve and
every single fragment I can’t cease to think
you didn’t care a least bit, I wonder how its not killing

I wanna hold your hands
I wanna hear those words
even though I know I’m deceiving me
tell me its a dream to begin with
and maybe
it’ll shatter my hopes for good

but all’s too fast
I think it’ll need a hurricane
to wake me up.