Sometimes I feel broken because Love seems something I can’t feel. Or that I can’t seem to display it. I’m estranged to the actions. Out of Lazy? Out of fear? Protection? Oh I long to fall madly in love and want it for forever. I know it is out there, I have had it before. I had to lose it, to understand it’s value. For now, I will continue to feel my broken lovemeter.
With weathered temperature, I break down currents whelming from my insides out the clues that can’t speak about the heart any differently. Maybe there is denial or some type of degree of heat that we deny, our experiences weather us with rain and snow or drought. They all have purpose. Maybe because I hold onto my seemingly crushed ego from back in the day that rose my being to cold Antartica. I won’t let go of the heat I feel, but I will let go of my umbrella. I would like to feel it all.
So rejuvenating. To be with the people that will always be in the living room of my heart. The only time I don’t remember her in my life is before I began to remember. And I will never forget her. Would I have done something differently had I known the impact of people and other external influences? Or is the undisclosed part of life, part of what has formed the indestructible endearment? Being around people that experienced a certain space of life with me, that learned of me through untrained observation and consistent participation, is an immeasurable cognizance.
Wird press this I appreciate you wanting to get to know how it goes – that carnival in my brain. But you can only eat so much cotton candy in one day. You’ll read this again, and you’ll be frustrated again I’m like a train that has the caboose on the other end of yours.
Keep running after your sandwich, you won’t get enough of the cheese until you do.
And then you’ll be sick for quite awhile.
It’s okay dear, only the strong mess around with my carnival.
You are the soulstice to my ever glowing nature. The soulutions I find in my everyday. Your soulfullness resonates in my bones, that warm laundrified fuzzy blanket against bone skin. How soulganic we are in our soulitude. You soulidify so much purpose in my being, that soulving kind of souldier, dedicated not to beat the problems, but to make them understood. The absoulute of my breath, the consoulable feature of all teddy bear grub. My resoulationial feats when I get stuck in mind mud. I’d stay in isoulation with you, fuel ourselves with our gasouline and live in the factual heat. That all of this means you are my soul mate.
Your being is closer, the sapphire fragrance of your inner child stands tall among the adult reeds. And my hands dribble through the adequate possibility, catching the stickiness of the long stems between my fingers. Making sense of today, the future.