Passenger

Passengers

Admit that you know me
For I am ubiquitous.
An inaudible whisper
Floating in darkness,
The weight of the past,
And a future uncertain,
Propagated by your own mortality
I am the thought between the thoughts,
The middle ground,
There in the times you stare off into the distance,
Dwelling in the subconscious,
Fueled by doubt
And fear,
And guilt,
And that hurt you love to hang onto,
Wearing it like a pallid veil.
That is what feeds me.
You can deny me- and you have,
But ultimately you are not good at deceiving yourself;
Unable to convince every cell in your body.
A parasitic inner-voice concealed.
Yes, I am the seed of unsettled dreams,
The reason you stay up at night, thinking about me
And struggle for words with that sweet young thing in the coffee shop,
(I think that you know me)
I am that deep abdominal ache,
The tightening in your chest,
Waking you at times, in a dank disturbing sweat.
So yield or refute, it is of no matter.
Continue to work and to frolic.
I will be watching.