You know how it feels when you want to write something meaningful..like poetry that germinates deep within the cranial depths and flows through your body to the very tip of your pen onto the dry parchment. The kind of poetry that gives meaning to the parchment. That gives meaning to yourself. You can feel it inside your head. The heaviness of untold words and unexpressed emotions, bottled up, ready to gush out through the tiny pores of your skin. But, somehow it just doesn’t happen. Because, the words don’t seem to do justice to what you feel. Not big enough, not strong enough to contain the emotions you wish to express. The uneasiness of wanting to express but unable to. That is what it feels like to be in love, alone.