intuition

intuition, a thought of something i've forgotten over the years... reflecting back, going over the mental valleys and hills, the landscapes of yesterday, memory banks raided and robbed by thieves with my own face, seeking something more meaningful than dwelling in the confines of my own head, my own prison... where have i been all these years? my dreams of bliss in terms of what is true and where life becomes love, where distance fades in the sunrise and a kiss sears away indecision and procures the elixir to ease whatever is the matter, where have i been? answers scroll down my eyes, screens of tears that dry to allow vision, and i see that despite every one and one and one... i have always been in this prison, for this skin suits only one, and there is a realization that my intuition isn't all its cracked up to be after all...