Wanting, driven crazy, too viral the beauty; a man
with issues, a woman with pains, could it be, would it be? I lose sanity in
mirrors. I avoid mirrors. So much unthinkable love, so sure it’s real, so true,
what happens to alone men? Praise askew. Answers too convenient. I desire
something radical, life altering, most reckless for a soul. Abandoned blues,
forbidden reality, shivering, shaking, begging for sanity—it can’t be
excellence, waves and ways, each traipsing wires, too bold to sense an escape. Thinking
about it. Afraid to live. It might hurt. Peeking around nightmares. Pleading the
beloved. Watching, tolerating, forgotten inside, aiming at unreality. I can’t
paint a picture. I fail so often. I lose out; it was never close enough; a soul
remains traumatized. To eat apricots. To sip wines. Talking like it’s a
miracle, so engulfed, so whelmed, trying to impress Light. I must dream. Life
back to its curse. A filthy baptism. Wasn’t truly worthy. It sounds this wave. Accepted,
notwithstanding.
