Locked up

I wonder what you feel
When you avoid the present
To live in some
unbeknownst future.
I wonder how it feels
To avoid what you would feel like
otherwise,
What you would feel in the Now.

Is it anxiety? Or fear? Love?
Vulnerability?
Where have they all gone
To make room for your
fantasy of the future,
In which hidden corner of your
worried mind
Have you hidden such great treasure?

We make friends with our enemies,
Or so we secretly wish,
For we look up to them.
Or so we think.
And we keep our unwanted feelings locked away,
while developing no real predisposition towards
them.
Ay, how lonely might they feel!
Perhaps if we understood the loneliness
We would be more prone
to befriend ourselves...