87. Writer - 2

I am a writer
losing the sight of reality
I'm getting used to the rush of emotions in my world,
This silent sadness
This painful misery
An emotional jolt
This unreal revelry
But the story is never in my hold
Yes this is an affair
I'm alone, but not in this world
Accompanied by a few
this world they'll sew
At times I feel too much
In reality I might never feel so much
But don't try to pull me out
It's unexplainable, what I sought..