I
was treated unfairly—into this event—while I reflect on those pillars; these
reasons behind actions, these fires simmering or stirring or saturated with
lime; this frigidity this freezer at feelings unbecoming; where one is absorbed
into something fragile while fleeing behavioral conscienceness.
—but
we leave that over there and we swim to shore while untangling kelp from our
ankles—
It
was morning with you this maturation into relations while I fiddled with
illusions; it was dance or heart at purple or turquoise; to redeem what never
flew or to fly so grounded while alienation seems appropriate; those pains we
feel or such rejection or thoughts breaking pages; at summer eyes or long
flowing dresses if but to look while being admired; our reasoning deceiving us
or our days brought to joys if but such reverberation.
But
it was unfair and we determine our cries into muddy lagoons; attempting to
decipher, or looking at premeditation, where it is familiar to sense lies; our
courage to saturate our dreams to soar as children lost in daydreams.
Into
something peculiar…
one
becomes a menace somewhere trapped while despising their children; flamed by
alcoholism or this addict’s dungeon while life is multiple distortions; just
looking that way—I have seen this countenance—while observers are forced to play
pretend; slurring come midnight or someone sensitive where it is held with
balance; evil to black knights at woes with white falcons or dear to jealousies
with female doves; such sharp shrapnel such hellish hounding at this face
praising autonomy; indeed, a terrible human, a frustrated-blind human, at
terrors, havens and lies.
Into
something attractive…
one
becomes a beacon this expansive soul this creative parachute; to adore their
children, to drink with moderation, and to manage their dungeons; as wonderful
humanitarians giving light to darkness but a delightful person to know; such
depth in sorrow such reaching beauty while only a few are privy; those
marvelous protégés those favorite smiles while aggravated over bitter winds; to
die for fun to lace young teens while dealing on God’s Level.
Into
something existential…
we
sense something extraordinary into a land of silence where we incur resistance;
our conditioned screams, our terrible vices, at pains or gems or both; to have
us at dens to pet our lions after soulprints have confused our legacy; our
treasured predicament, while no one but everyone is watching; as never a palm
to become too engrossed where the weather is always coldness; such accidental
creatures into fairer fantasies and too aloof to make connections.
