Casting into the void like spellcasters standing at the edge of an abyss,
reaching out for you but you can’t see because even light can’t make the trip,
lost to sound, our mouths move futily like suffocating fish,
and yet somehow I know you’re there forever separate but you’re missed.
Though we are constrained by others in the dark to reach another is my greatest wish,
and if there was something we could both share together I’d smash it with a brick,
so you could know that I was there, some small violent signal I could give,
because our inability to share our consciousness for even a moment isolates us as we live.
Why can’t you hold on to me, I miss your smell,
but you I couldn’t reach so I guess it’s just as well.
How can someone feel so close and then be so far away?
This is not the first time I’ve thought of you and touched myself today.
supported by 35 fans who also own “Casting into the Void”
I don't think anything I write here will do justice to the artist who commited to this.
It feels like he lets his heart open up to you with vulnerability and colours of sorrow, confusion, frustration and hope. All at once. And it's genuine.
What does it all mean? Read the title. It all falls down in place and it's truly great. szczur