The Widening Hole Poem by ILIL ILWE

What is it that makes a hole in my existence?
That draws my mind away from what should be done and makes it to perch on matters that have yet to exist?
My heart bleeds a color I've never seen and yearns for rest.
I tell myself that the day will come, not knowing if I've lied.
I live in cycles like the earth who's child I am, clutching for things not near as fear, which holds me, drives me further away.
Alas, I am a slave to that which I despise. Yet I give in to it by the moment.
I dare not scream for help. You may hear and ignore me.
I love you where you are: in my mind, my thoughts, my dreams.
My pain is my desire. My desire must be had. I do not have what it takes to obtain.
The hurt goes on and I let it.