We cannot afford

to disconnect like this, to have long silences not looking at each other, to be immersed in our own mundane lives.

I cannot afford to live like this. Trenches. Trudging. Toiling. There's trouble in the air, turmoil in the soundwaves.

My cryptic messages shroud the confusion of my soul. Deep inside I know my subconscious, my soul, is thinking.

I'm just trying to unearth what it wants me to hear.