My hands search for you, thinking you’re there,

But I just wander about, cutting blindly through air.

I think I’m looking into your eyes,

But that’s just heat trying to rise.

I think that’s your shine in sight,

But I’m just staring into blinding light.

I remember holding your soft hand,

Or is that just me playing with sand?

I remember your voice and its gentle sound,

But that might just be the conch I found.

Reality isn’t seeping all the way through,

I think I’ve become delusional waiting for you.

I don’t know if you’re even here anymore,

Can’t tell if I’m entertained or bored.

I hope the bottom is soft because I continue to fall,

I’m starting to wonder if you’re even real at all.

If you’re not real I hope I never find out,

I think I’m much happier mindlessly prancing about.