She gave me her heart and everything below it..
Above all, her mind..
..she kept for herself.
That’s why I love her.
She asked me if she should put the word out, now that I was coming home..
.. I don’t know why.
She knows my prose is addictive..
She knows I spit fire.
She knows my questions burn and will never be extinguished.
I’m never coming home.
“…part of me was happy that you were beginning to see the truth.
Part of me longed for the sweet ignorance that made you the way you are…
…the part that swore to shield you from the depravity of society“
I am not a Product of Society.
To say, think, or be told that I am means that I can:
I am a Problem.
I am a Solution.
I am an Outcome..
This moment has happened an infinite amount of times..
And yet, I never. See. It coming.
And I am never prepared for it.
(You) never cease to remind me that some things..
Somehow we always seem to follow the same patterns
I am always left amazed.
I love the fact you you and me aren’t unconditional.
I appreciate the fact that you stay when it gets dark.
The possibility of drifting away holds us closer together..
Our worth is not reflected in a paycheck.
What does it matter..
If she does not feel the same?
Whenever you are in any form of doubt, just remember…
They were here due to proximity.
We were world’s apart…
And still, there was an “Us”.
After many orbits, and years of being affected by the gravity of others..
I have finally gone full circle.
This is where it started, another new beginning.