Left, like an open window,
unattended with thoughts of you,
where they travel, a forbidden place,
tell me your purpose for being here.
If there's a reason, set me upon it,
let it shake the ground,
in wondering, will my time ever arise?
an endless pause,
sigh in frustration,
all these actions missing attraction,
unanswered pleas,
i'd rather believe you can't read me,
how blantant in my sinful subtleties,
much to prove,
allure you in a surreptitious manner,
wanting what's never attained,
to create truth from impossibility,
we must have skipped the chase.