Make way for the simple hours

And right now you're worlds away. There's more to it than just the miles that part us. Right now I expect you to be sitting with your like-minded apostles in circles spinning clockwise. A weekly event. All taken too young and I see you as the Footman. Lost to the mists of time. The preparer, the organizer, the setting them all up one by one and passing them along. Though I've been known to dabble in those depths I could never comprehend. I hate it and I've told you that I hate it. In the end I got my wish but I'm still so afraid. I want you to make me cry. What will happen when I see you for the first time? It breaks me to know I haven't known you. Will I turn away from the monster you make yourself to be? Nothing's worse than seeing you worse than me.

Comments

enter the struggler

Don't give up. I'm only starting to see the gravity of your situation. the extent of your damnation. In short I don't blame you for your frivolous disposition. I blame myself for not being enough to change it. That came out wrong. I can't, nor do I want to, change you. I just wish I was insentive enough to make you wish to change. Or maybe change is non-existant. I want you to grow. You're playing a static and stagnant role whilst I am flourishing and thriving. I know I'm not the same as I was when we were first in love, but the change is amplified relative your inert stance. I've always cared about you, but that too has been altered by the hand of circumstance. I've known countless feelings for you, attachment, love, lust, caring, anguish, concern. I've always felt something for you. Now it's stronger than ever before. No more silly juvenile notions of "love". I care for you like a sister, a mother, a lover, a friend. You say you don...

Lets make love. Let's make the dark night shine let's make bliss and happiness, and I will make you mine. Turn our scabbed hearts into rubies; our tears into diamond skies. burn our fears to embers and watch the ashes rise. We'll complete the circle, fill in all the cracks with our heads held high, never looking back.

neighborhood nights

I feel like somewhere along my life there was a shift. Suddenly nothing was for fun any more, it was all necessary. Suddenly I'm bothering with what others think, afraid to link any connotations I deem negative to my being. Why do I care what people I've never met, who'll forget they ever saw me, think of me; this obscure stranger in their peripherals. It's a warped sense of mind and place, seeing the space around me in my mind's made up ways. So I stray away from everyone, isolating myself unwittingly, turning them against me. Self fulfilling prophecies, I succeed in creating this reality. I need to break free from my mind's mentalities, with which negativity has propelled me. So I've started a new sport. I call it neighborhood night dancing. Donning headphones and heading out alone to the empty streets as the city sleeps, and moving to the beat. Letting it compel me towards a freedom long gone missing. Letting go is an art. Complete release is a tough ...

rude awakenings

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