Hands Up

I've been contemplating it a lot lately, what it means to have passion.

Passion for what? For who? How much? How? For what reason?

I question my own all the time. Sometimes I feel a lot. Sometimes I feel none. Sometimes too much. Sometimes a burst but gone in an instant. How to maintain it? How to nurture it?

Maybe I'm not cut out for passion.

Some days I feel that the only way to express my passion is by dancing around in a room alone. Taking walks alone. Watching sunsets alone. Laying on the couch with music on alone. Sitting in the dark alone. Standing in a crowded street alone. Staring at the sky alone. Laying in bed alone. Laying on the floor alone.

How can I feel more? How can I be more? It never feels enough. Whatever I'm doing...

Sometimes putting my arms around myself pretending someone is hugging me is the best comfort I can feel only because there is no one around me that can give me one that makes me feel at ease any more.

Where did you go person of mine? I lost you in the tide it seems. You hurt me and then you let me leave. If that's the limitation of your passion, perhaps your hold should have never comforted me to begin with. It's the idea of you I keep falling in love with, not you.

Please play a song for me.