That Cathartic Ache

When we figure it out,

that we need to,

somehow once again find a,

search for a,

perhaps, oh my goodness really,

am I about to,

do I really,

head swimming in a sea of undertow,

lost inside a dream of fog and remiss,

that grief that overwhelms our heart at the very moment

we come to terms with our need,

that very soul of a piece of security,

the one atom of notion

the piece of fabric needed to blend,

our final worry, final reality, final beckon,

to seek some wisdom,

when we come to terms with our need to …

ask …