Restless

the semblance of calm, the semblance of land, for how long? how far? I am restless to know the limits today,
A ruse to get back to you," if I get your.." "if not...... then so be it"
                    Thinking my own way
                                     Toying with your thoughts
                                 Making you this, making you that
                           No longer able to know how you really are
                                                            Never knew perhaps who you (an interruption perhaps) really were
                                                                 
                                                           Treading the paths which you have trodden
                                                              Watching and learning my own way,
 You perhaps will never be there. This is all there is to life. I am certain.                                 

Scooping from the core of the core, I begin with, utterance kills it all. At present, lost 'creativity', bereft of spontaneity, I see my thoughts propel itself towards poetry. But poetry.... I had abandoned long long ago.
Making a mockery of myself in front of me, I feign to utter, feign to express that which even I am not clear about.  A resting place for