It's become apparent that my realism seems, like or as real, but never quit matches, exactly how I feel.
So in the zeal of the physical, it’s the unseen that inspires, that god like power, that destroys and creates lives.
So there's no surprise, that in this divine like essence, forever will I thrive, yearning for its presence.
With persistence escaping my reach, in every stretching grasp, and evading my resuscitation, in my every waking breath.
Less I meet my death, know it will never end, both thick and thin in search, for the only known perfection.
Inexplicably making my world end, repeated round and round, so completely abnormal, and utterly unsound.
Love is like a weightless pound, levitated yet heavy, so it’s troubling and retching, when this mysterious thing besets me.
That head spinning beauty, and answer to all problems, The hero in misfortunes, and the only way to solve them.
The opposite of what dims, burning from the fueless fire, the straight path of enlightenment, beyond lust and desire.
Love takes us higher, seeing and sorting through the people,
magnifying for you your one, with no other, as an equal.
I have lost it, my life’s work, my image of victory, simply what I thought it to be, all because questions have no real answer.
I have not grown to my potential, trapped in body issues, so what? 600lbs putting food down, but I love me, never said before because... I can’t...
Can't let you live knowing me, knowing my weakness. Aware of tranquility in our separation. Peace when we're apart, I wish I were more knowledgeable about matters of the heart.
The heart interferes with brain matters and I don't understand its beating because... I can't...Can't understand breathing, the filling of lungs for cycled air, prepared from a cloud, maybe.
When I was a baby in the womb, I didn't need air or breath. I'm the controller of this body, but I don't realize what circulates the vessels in my vessel. Vessels in a vessel full of vessels, with no control of their vessels.
Life's a consciousness, trapped in a universe called a body, living in a vessel, living in a universe, amongst other universe, milky way small minded solar system, selflessly in peace with no other creation superior to the Hue-man Being but... I can't...
Can't seem to find my subconscious, or any other levels of self, but I have the nerve to believe I'm an intelligent being, that lost his life's work? My fleshy beating heart, created from my start, aren't I it and it me and my life's work its beat?
I'm the performer of its rhythm, and the producer of its sound but... I can't... Can't remove it from auto play, I can't control it in anyway. Its harmony unstable, shaken and damaged, corrupted by universal influenced bad habits, that abused poison' break ups, make ups and relationships of all sorts, peace was self, before this artistic choice, to make these musical energy waves that says "I'm alive", in this universal collection of moving lives, seeking only to once again be singular, because when we're together, we are one so... I can't...
Can't tell you what a couple is because questions have no real answer, and life's responses are indefinite.
How true it is about the man with one chair. Prepared to sit alone and nothing more.
Prepared to be by himself through life's trail no need question his motives nor judge his intention because 1 multiplied by 1 is 1. No adding to his singular dimensional way. He is a man who expects none besides him, who prepares for self and absolutely no company. He is not lacking in any way.
Frigid! Your bland foul aroma of crisp stilled air. lacking motion and fulfilment demise stuck in time. Who knew the deceased seasons of spring and summer would fall into your icy grip? Displeasing our noses with the sting of you odor. Can we not cover our faces with mask, scarfs, or the like, without suffering the horrendous onslaught? You and your filthy stench like a wrench designed to twist every inch of our intestinal walls belching vomit into the once plant produced progressive pollen perfumed air? But your back is turned without care, conceived to be cold hearted smelling like a scent uncharted. creaking and cracking painful like a splinter. filled is you reign with the stench of winter.
We find strength in our connection, an outer worldly selection.
An example of Godly perfection, A post spiritual correction.
We tamed our fame of impure lust, And thus we thrive in God we trust.
To Him our love so pure and just, So thankful to whom is guiding us.
Together our bond forever secure, Through trials and errors we must endure.
To live beyond the garden's door, and walk among the Holy floor.
To lose our love we mustn't fear, Until the day we disappear.
When all the souls will praise and cheer, And peace is spread from the heavens here.
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