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Forgivable

The shadows dance on the trees, moving with the breeze, morphing into a silent rain that tickles me. The flashes of light flash me back to the night I remembered who I was and forgave again. Hurt again. Hope is lost on the brink of a smack in the face. The clouds slam your veins. You venture ecstatic embrace with ignorance to the innocence I lost among tracks of trace. The tar pours through the corners of your mouth like the blood of a dying soul, it drips in tune to the bobble of your reel lies. No surprise. Just another tally to my book of crooks haggling escape. I surmise.

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This is not  the  world. This is  my  world. I just said that. You are a privileged presence. You are arbitrary. Perspective is subjective. My  world is objective. Stop interrupting. I have no patience for the faithless. I cry for my dreams. I work for my dreams. I smile for my dreams. I live for my dreams. I'm a professional. No explanation necessary.