Interstellar Creative Blockage

Dear passion,

You are holographic

You are a field of light that I can see, but not touch

Often, I reach out and feel you,

run my hands through you,

but I cannot hold you

Sometimes, most times, I am so fixated on your capture that I forget to be your companion

Perhaps that is why you fail to stick to my hands and enter my heaving lungs

I am breathing for frustration, not creation

Passion, won’t you grow for me?

Light knows no boundaries, so why should you?

You can travel, move, and bend yourself into any space

So why not me?

I beg you to blossom, futilely, because now I’m starting to see

Light cannot exist within a void where the universe is destroyed,

So you cannot exist within me

To find you, I must venture beyond my black hole mouth

Escape the cycling succubus of destruction behind my eyes

To join the galaxy of words travelling at the speed of light

Passion, you never existed here

I always thought you were untouchable, holographic,

but you were just moving too quickly around yourself for me to catch you

Don’t wait for me.

Just let me catch up to you.

Your future companion,

Gabi