I think of you too fondly to have no reason to be here. I think of you too much to be here with no reason. So should this be more than an opportunity to grow with a side of entertainment, I have more desire than ever to be here. Where I belong. By your side.
But should I be wrong about everything. Should I stand for a moment's notice where my fond thoughts and regular visits to my imagination are worth nothing more than words then too, shall I know where I belong.
No anger or remorse is attached to these feelings. No reason to be harder than before but considering the cost of leaving my heart out on the line to wither in the ever increasing gama rays of the sun. Shriveling up and drying out and feeling so damn obvious in lending itself to cancerous thoughts and pedantic functions in practicality, the blood just gets thicker and the muscle grows harder and all I want is the right to feel secure.
So your smile that was once so reassuring now seems twisted and insincere. My only response to that is to cry so that I can admit that sometimes, most times, I try too hard.
Should insanity arrive on the riverboats in the hot sun from across the Atlantic sea, it will not be a surprise since insanity has been running in and out of the house for my entire life. It doesn't really ask for much just an open mind willing to reject the mundane or the ordinary or the possibility of indifference when reciting a well written monologue about those boys playing with your vagina in the 6th grade at the dinner table in a full out confession to your mom who invited her church friends over for banana bread and tea. It really is that kind of madness that drives love completely out the window and calls for a doctor to alleve the sickness.
He arrives with cough medicine and pain killers but its your mind that is gone. And you know, what?...Just like rejection, its hard to deal with.
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