I am so sincerely sorry from the bottom of my stop/start heart that it has seemingly needed
To be this particular way – nothing none of us ever did
Not. One. Bit.
Realise it or not, we. are. inordinately. f-r-e-e.
And it is, all of it, a thing of utter and deceptive inequality indeed, and we, each and every next smitten one of us, breathes right by our very next bleed – all about just how good we can manage to miraculously bandage it back together again and let these intrepidly, interruptingly suggestive people let themselves see us : immediately
Can we not simply feel it out for our whole wide wanderlust, wholesomely entrusted and worthy selves – didn’t our hidden inabilities amount to something extra-specific, outright terrifically enhanced soon as we were but jam-infested kids caught midst fits of laughter and our minds didn’t really matter only at elderly glance?
Take his/her settled, rainbow-ribbon-ed hand and let its wrist-full of happiness watch these meandering and pedestrianised ‘San Franciscan’ people dance gregariously for and of themselves
Guided by the stricken and specifically articulated light because that right there, my tattoo-emblazoned, lucratively impassioned friend, is exactly what makes supernatural sense
Drenched and contrary to popular belief – soon as we delicately, complicatedly thieved into self-exiled play our very own existences and twisted them back to gainful life again
A penny for your pained, decidedly ear-aching and seriously over-trained thoughts, we really ought to not think too much this time … always had this insular and unequivocally singular and ingenious, introverted and undeniably hurting feeling
That it is, all of it, meant to be … created. from. unknown. degrees. of. fictitious. fiction. – born by derelict proceedings until, that is … we breathe … we breathe …
we breathe fair, together and gently, and we start to serenely correct ourselves – connect the misshapen dots which realign our crimes – to the right extent til we will simply continue to make mesmerising and endless sense
Of this unmatched need for the secular belief in a life seemingly less than sugar-coated ordinary – and suddenly so it needs us especially
Mirror-imaged supremacy has been waiting and asking for our intermingled hands all along, reminding us to … just! look! down!
Seems we do indeed need to begin to dance with this creatively unjust uncertainty, some day soon as we feel the treacherously inept tune make secondary sense of its loop-holed self again
This is a nestled fear, wherein we, all of us, wish to soliloquy breathe – some day soon as it gladly ties us right by the rainbow-ribbon-ed jagged edges of the reawakened moon
Of our blinded, serendipitous, kissed and binded, contagiously kaleidoscopic minds
Finally – an inside job of a most carefree kind and working its way out from inner-beneath the other settled side, til therein – lies. the. final. smile.
Hold your next question for me
I swear to Christ, it means to make some kind of kindly sense yet again, just that it appears to be … something somewhat malnourished and typically jaded and drenched
In treacherously inept insinuation
A habit will remain but a habit til defeated by originality
Pardon yourselves silly and wait … wait … wait for perfection to unearth its very own imperfect edge
Somewhat surreal always brings with it this ferociously (un)just feeling
Have to ask you this one simple thing … did we ever lean in and whisper near your still stinging ear and say that it would be easy!?