I like to break rules, sometimes. Break is not the right word. Test. I deem it necessary to test rules. If they are here to protect me, I test them. I have some trust issues there, perhaps, if it becomes Perpetual. I know someone like that. They are hurting. I remember this always. I love them. They are so smart, adventurous, caring, and open-minded. All characteristics I hold in the highest esteem. I’d do anything for this person. If God and love are more than coping mechanisms embedded in my psyche, we were made for each other. We have been apart for so long. It hurts. I avoid thinking of the situation. It brings pain. Pain is real. Love hurts. Indicative of loves actuality. Peculiar. I’d love rock climbing and camping with this person. They love the outdoors. Me too! I find myself attracted to them as it seems everything I am, they are deeper. How so… opulently mysterious, intensely emotional, amazingly adventurous, blood-boilingly beautiful, Saccharinely sweet. I’m love-struck. I’ve tried running from love. “I’m faster, you’ll never catch me.” Speed for me endurance for thee. It’s my turn to chase. I’m lazy and lustful. An overgrown child, really. As I run from love, love frequently finds a shortcut and a grand electrified sounding rod to submissify me with. Not how I’d do it at all. I’d ask love. Not with words. I’d touch love on the cheek, as gently as I could manage. I’d look love in the eyes that stole my soul, and read what they required to feel me there. I’d do anything for this person. I think of them every day. It hurts. For them, I’ll eat all the pain from my plate, lick it clean, and fall to my knees in front of you, and beg you to tell me how I can help you feel better. I’m perfectly captivated by you. In you lay some incredible capacity to ignite me, pile of rancid ashes that I am, into fire. God, if you’re there, deliver me to them with urgency. Every second in their absence is a sacrifice.
I’m a man now, I recall I was mud once. Earthen rain, falling from the sky. Sliding about gooey and slick, sucking anything I could into my treacherous concrete deaths. I was then evaporated. Pulled from the ground to the great blue. There was peace there, and the burning star of passion to keep us warm. The wind. A hurricane. Invoked by my own curiosity. What have I done? Forgive me rain drop, I pushed you away. In your absence, the cyclone of myself became engulfed in flames. I was plasma, a miasma, when I stopped spinning. The pain. I’ll refrain. From quitting. The game I’m playing, we are winning. I’m sorry raindrop. I’ll find you again. Let’s go back to that warm blue calm. It’s the only way. You’re stuck with my foolish self.
It was a dream, I had on the beach. A beautiful dream. Nothing more. I’ll forget you the moment I die, dream.
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