c

i wish it was real. i mean, maybe in someone else's life or dimension it's real but, not in mine. i can't reach beyond my glass screen to feel it and embrace it nor can i love it. the love is nothing but a mere inevitable feeling being sent through a thick jumble of wires begging to be cut through and released from the overwhelmingly uncomfortable grasp holding them together. pole to pole, the feeling is sent one way on a journey through those wires searching and hankering for something said by many to be extraordinary; but it doesn't, and it won't return.