Power, Less

The battle between Power and the loss of control

Fight the power that it has over me; to not think but feel. It is a pain as an itch but not within reach of control. I can only control the thought. But the thought has lost control of the real. Lost in the powerless of being away out of touch of what burns and I long for the real touch. The only thing that can make me take the pain and bring it to pleasure. Please I would need my power I need the real but I have nothing but phantoms. What is there to reach when reach is impossible. There is nothing for tomorrow but regret for the lack of the now. All the coulds that now are nevers. Existing in a place that only offers me illusion. Reaching only to know I won't find purchase for I cannot land. I should fight but fighting is vain and in my vanity I have already lost. The moment lost to act, not possible to re-act. So I sit trying to be numb. Knowing that power will not be restored. Going as the wind blows caring not of my whereness. Hope becomes my only. I am stripped, mirror broken and left by myself. Where I went I can see. Fight, do I have power, somewhere. Hope is my strength, reality my knife. I will continue.  Hope to not fall on my reality. It would be an unwearable end. Cut through real to find truth. Follow positive and end at purpose. Knowing me is not less but power I will be at the end of my beginning with me again and she will be there. 

Author's Note

Thank you for reading. All thoughts are welcome.