That inner pleasure source where you swear your God exists, it's in that last place you’re always forgetting where to look. I don't want redemption now or a refill from a newly found stash. Step back and look at the totality, that corner part of your soul, where you swore you wouldn’t look at anymore. I must of heard this commotion a hundred times or more, please God, if you can help me just this once it will be a last and final time. Eventually, the events will start all over again things will begin to build. The risk of taking the chance in believing in a God is a sorrowful dance where the God may not respond. Sometimes when words are spoken they get tangled and lost It might take one hundred times before we care care to listen. Don’t ignore that feeling you get after you've prayed for hours and yet, some will never see the miracle just performed because their eyes are slightly jaded. Instead, people insist on following their hollow and or false Gods. My apologies, if I've misstated the drugged out relationships we’ve previously fought for. Let me tell you there is this warm smothering condition a weighted blanket of sorts that can pin and kiss your shoulders closed it's a divine love-drawn feeling. Take a chance today get ahead of your thoughts squarely kiss the delicate corners of a tough decision. Share your mind with the rest of us fill our love-controlled lives where we're asked to write about how it is to feel. I can tell you I've saved the years absorbed by some ill fated condition that causes night sweating fevers to be an excuse for all my writings. I love you it's an absurd condition I know to be here praying to a God I love I'm not sure she's listening. To the backs of hands I can smell her windowless touch in a building that's been all smashed out. She's buried herself away I'll pray even harder still I haven't made a monument in forever, since the old days when I believed I was so much older. I'm no longer afraid to lunge and jump reaching for hopeless love. I am still the first to admit that greed and desire are hard to fake. Passion, on the other hand, is never satisfied unless of course you know how to spin the bottle right. Right? I hate having to ask you why you're coming in so late maybe it's another one of your nights that I'm not supposed to mention instead, I'll open a book with ridiculously thin pages and pretend I'm reading. There's no way I could be expected to memorize words that are forgotten or no longer practiced. It's been a lifetime since I've seen you act in a way where you cherish and hold sacred the words on these delicate pages. A two thousand year event, as the story goes horribly wrong some would say "sideways." I can't profess I know how to pray in a way where I can hide the sins from an hour ago. I feel like we've come pretty far since those days when we fought for sunrise to stay the fuck away. Yesterday I was told about an event simply because silence wasn't a negotiated part of the ancient contract that I suppose is what makes up this drug-like feeling where 12 hours is a milestone. Each new dipping I swear I'll get a handle on this condition it just feels too right sitting here spilling a string of very thoughtful images hoping that you'll get your vision and see these words instead of trying to read them.
Poignant as always. Love the words
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The risk of taking the chance
in believing in a God
is a sorrowful dance
where the God may not respond.
I feel like we’ve come pretty far
since those days when we
fought for sunrise
to stay the fuck away.
These are great lines. Thanks for the read.
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Thank you again and again C!🧝♀️
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Ah yes this i am in love with
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