Interference

There was always a certain sense of nothing, 

creeping up, raging on, and digging in its heels,

in me it seems.

I always feel the beats thrumming through me.

Deeper and harder than i could ever explain to anyone.

Now the night plagues on around me,

without me. 

Without metaphor or inspiration.

A calling out awaits me, 

it has to doesn't it?

A double meaning, lost to my power outage.

That smooth, claiming skin

upturned in it's visage.

I can still feel the presence of many sets of hands. 

The last sound in their intent.

Hands to bring grateful disbelief, 

and sighs of open hope.