Where To Start?

I'm out of words for you. I'm sinking soon, shrouding the moon in little dances I do to remember. That face and the treasure, eating my ideas and wishing for freedom in the number of words I can conjure. I open up the leak and seep through your eyes, burned and disguised in the old tattered phrases you share. Wait and declare that life isn't just the jest and heft of your weight you'd like to shed, but instead your eyes leave me with the feeling like, there's dread all around us. So? Where can we go? and what is this that we've been given? Just old usage that isn't forgiving the noise...