An Unlikely Understanding
The hydrogen is abundant in accordance with knowledge kept on the outskirts of profanity.
My vanity has exploded into a swamp of monotony.
Parallel to what you know is an excuse for justification that's grown from loss of willingness to comply. Who's to say that comfort abounds amongst restless thoughts of verification.
Vitamin D is found pool side on a day that haunts my current disposition. Sewn amongst beliefs are images drowning in the starry skies. A taunting idea of falling stars is eating away at patterns of a uniquely kept life.
To give and to hold grudges is negatively paradoxical in the sea you swim. I have unkempt pride in lies and true regards for a life I hold high.
At daybreak I organize a junket of my mind in which everyone's invited but nobody replies. This lack of surrounding parties is fine because I'm unable to remove my disguise. Even on my own I cannot be in my own, and must fore-go my demise.
I cry an unremarkable expired excitement for the lust of the flesh. I'm sarcastically over joyed by the concept of breath. There is no one to be had for a mad woman disappointed in documents of unfulfilled temptations, I guess.
A tired lunatic once told me that witnesses must die, even more scarily, I must be the key to finding their next profound life.
Your struggle is uniquely proportional to the help you allow. Your madness cannot be overruled by caring concerns for a better life. Your stubbornness is grotesque. To be too adamant in your perception of the way life is and ought to be, dissolves the only hope you've been given. The rules have been broken. Climb to the peak of your infuriation and free fall into a new idea of what is allowed to exist. Heed your frustration and the process of thoughts that have taken you there. Study the facts and read behind the words. Border your conclusions with knowledge of ignorant acceptance. Face a reality that is not your own with understanding and kindness. Eat my soul, digest my bones, and excrete a functioning ability to care.
Integers have a square root of infinity in imaginary chairs. Glowing stars and planets envelop words of a past life. The creativity of musical instruments is confined by walls you refuse to surrender. Closed doors blossom an imagery of night. Through the dawn, until the dusk we hide in one another's unmistaken comfort.
I am not sad, it should be no surprise. I hope you enjoyed eating your pie as much as I. I know you're not what the others think you are. This is my reply to a forgotten life that has never been. This is my unconventional way to make amends. You shouldn't be hated, ashamed, or held in contempt for what you want.
The objects of my scrutiny are your poetic words.
I'm always here, I'll always love. Kindness is my forte. Somewhere hidden amongst these words lies my adoration for you despite your stubborn ability to stray.
My vanity has exploded into a swamp of monotony.
Parallel to what you know is an excuse for justification that's grown from loss of willingness to comply. Who's to say that comfort abounds amongst restless thoughts of verification.
Vitamin D is found pool side on a day that haunts my current disposition. Sewn amongst beliefs are images drowning in the starry skies. A taunting idea of falling stars is eating away at patterns of a uniquely kept life.
To give and to hold grudges is negatively paradoxical in the sea you swim. I have unkempt pride in lies and true regards for a life I hold high.
At daybreak I organize a junket of my mind in which everyone's invited but nobody replies. This lack of surrounding parties is fine because I'm unable to remove my disguise. Even on my own I cannot be in my own, and must fore-go my demise.
I cry an unremarkable expired excitement for the lust of the flesh. I'm sarcastically over joyed by the concept of breath. There is no one to be had for a mad woman disappointed in documents of unfulfilled temptations, I guess.
A tired lunatic once told me that witnesses must die, even more scarily, I must be the key to finding their next profound life.
Your struggle is uniquely proportional to the help you allow. Your madness cannot be overruled by caring concerns for a better life. Your stubbornness is grotesque. To be too adamant in your perception of the way life is and ought to be, dissolves the only hope you've been given. The rules have been broken. Climb to the peak of your infuriation and free fall into a new idea of what is allowed to exist. Heed your frustration and the process of thoughts that have taken you there. Study the facts and read behind the words. Border your conclusions with knowledge of ignorant acceptance. Face a reality that is not your own with understanding and kindness. Eat my soul, digest my bones, and excrete a functioning ability to care.
Integers have a square root of infinity in imaginary chairs. Glowing stars and planets envelop words of a past life. The creativity of musical instruments is confined by walls you refuse to surrender. Closed doors blossom an imagery of night. Through the dawn, until the dusk we hide in one another's unmistaken comfort.
I am not sad, it should be no surprise. I hope you enjoyed eating your pie as much as I. I know you're not what the others think you are. This is my reply to a forgotten life that has never been. This is my unconventional way to make amends. You shouldn't be hated, ashamed, or held in contempt for what you want.
The objects of my scrutiny are your poetic words.
I'm always here, I'll always love. Kindness is my forte. Somewhere hidden amongst these words lies my adoration for you despite your stubborn ability to stray.
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