My moves were awkward and stuttering
And you left
I thank you
My demons came to consume us
And I had to fight them
I was not perfect
But I won

I thank you
You, the kasillyst
Of my resurrection

Do you want me to come?

You've become quiet...
I'm working on myself, healing
So that my moves are confident and flow
And I will come when fates align my one

I found you
Oh how happy I am to know you're real
A beauty, I know why people use the word stunning now to describe beauty

Stunning

The lingering word which describes you oh so well.
I see you, I see what you believe the be flaws. You might not show it but the wounds you have are oh so beautiful. They fill me with rage, I would burn the world to protect you, I am filled with regret that I was not there to support you...
Yet you are still whole and perfect in my eyes
Your wounds are embroidery

This is the vent, I cannot sleep.

I slept with the pussycat, she charged me up quite a bit (unfortunately).

My routine is strong, yet somewhat shakey.

The day is whimsical of late.
Oh how I wish she would take the bait.
Should I ask her out on a date?
Or should I wait?

Some nights are exhausting, as the day closes she is not by my side.
I experience the day as a pocket of all time.
The eternal now.
To which nothing really belongs.
But oh how I wish that to not be true for her.
Oh how I wish she would only belong to the eternal.
Maybe she does.
Maybe we must wait.
The grand singularity is coming.
When time stands still and comes rushing.
When eternity decides to arrive in one moment.
When infinity and the finite meet and become one.

So much is to be said.
Love

My heart is aching, bleeding, pouring out for the one that I love
It keeps me up at night
It wakes me early in the morning
What have I become?
Have I been consumed?

By the drug that is called love

I understand the romantics
Who couldn't live without it

Drug addicts really

Thank god for meditative practice and tools to regulate. Poor souls are those who don't have this.