Yet To Wake

I fell into an absent minded slumber, One where it was impossible to raise, Unable to rise from which I fell I found an mattress of curiosity which I continuously fell under the conditions which I could barely explain. I seeped deeper feeling every thread of fabric. Giving myself something perhaps I didn't know existed. I abandoned what I knew as moral reasoning. Instead, choosing to let this sensation take control. For once I felt like I had found a place that felt like home. In every sense of the word. Existing in every sound my heart chose to utter where words only complicated everything. I found passion in exploring the unknown, the constant thought that loomed every thought I came face to face with. The comforter splashing beneath me grasping the back of my head. The back of my body. I refused to fabricate this as a scandal, Giving myself something I've never before experienced. Allowing myself to become attached to every fiber, every thread. Lukewarm flutters wrinkling beneath my body, the pleasure of falling in complete comfort. I conclude hating myself for not experiencing this subtle sensation sooner, for not desiring to break away from what I thought was life in it's full meaning. Instead allowing the full embodiment of acceptance. Finding that I was the only thing holding me back Falling into the liberation of her heart I've still yet to wake