I tell myself to keep it simple. I believe Love mastered this. A level closer, suffering at those gates. Head to chest. Pen to hands. Ink to serenity. I was living like that, acting before souls. It never tells a correct story. I envy those straightforward. Years given. Love might smile gently, a tear bubbling up. I imagine many sold a diamond, standing near there, trying to purchase it back. To imagine where minds go; such glowing, deeper gravel, skating upon emotion. I wonder in ten years will knowledge uncover more lights. To partake of nectar, to celebrate what hurts. I wish life was easier, to ignore elements, to believe in wilderness. I would like to know more. I would like the combination. A soul after change: If to figure out norms. I negated parts, subtracted from self, still undergoing pressures. Such murky clouds, too wise over there, to make it a long while. Maybe souls want for self a continuous stimulant, something everlasting, something acute. Purposed awareness. (So ubiquitous in given circles. No one is fully amazed. To switch into another group, to be seen differently, indeed.) I never forget the infraction. I just wonder what God means by redeemed. Just confusion on my part. I try not to imagine the harsh. I try to value reciprocation. To give what one would like to receive. Nevertheless!
