Wanderings

An automate for most of the day
I do what I must,
Although there is some time to play.

But I cannot focus
Daydreaming,
Plagued by the constant presence...
Your absence.

Inspiration evades me
My mind clouded
I've missed you...

It is not sadness or numbness
Rather a different kind of chaos.
Indecisive in nature;
Stagnant even.

But this overcast
Of erratic impressions,
with its randomness should soon dissipate...
And its euphoric end should settle
Into a constant state of excitement.