She stares at the world through tear-filled eyes,

Searching for proof that warmth still exists in this unbelievably cold world,

Frigid and robotic surface connections make her feel completely alone,

And not like standing free at the top of a mountain basking in the sun set alone,

Like concrete bound ankles dragging her to the parts of the ocean no one has ever seen before,


It is an agonizing fate,

To need connection so intensely,

In a world held together by posts on a six inch screen,

Connected by sugar coated falsehoods of what life is really like,

She yearns for it,

For stimulation,

To feel,

                 And be felt,

To breathe in ecstasy,

                        And exhale grief,

To feel the chills trace her skin where fingertips dance like ballerinas on Broadway,

A quickened heart beat rushing blood like jam packed subway stations,

To feel Alive

Or better yet


To Feel