a poem: feel me

Ya feel me?, they say
Well, usually no one feels ya, my friend.
Occasionally, they might feel ya.
They might eventually get you.
Get your state of mind.
Your emotional state.

But how often does that happen?
How precious is it when they actually and instantly do.
That one person that truthfully relates.
That understands your trace of thoughts.
Your feelings that come through it.

Instead of embracing and holding on to them,
You leave.
Trying to find sympathy elsewhere
From people that don’t value you the same way
That use you for egocentric means
How come?

How come you endlessly wander?
How come you don’t trust?
How come you keep on thinking
That there must be more, better and more glamorousness around the next corner?

Rest in stillness, dig deep
Listen to the source of wisdom that you carry within you
Wherever you go, whatever you do
It will guide right back
Because there is no bar of gold
More shining than the heart
Of that someone that reaches for your truth

-your tiny woman in a giant world

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