Flexible Solar Dancing Girl

Nothing to say, and no one to say it to! Isn’t it strange the dumb motions we go through? I’ve read everything a hundred times for clues – if there’s any I’m sorry they’re much too obtuse. What’s the use? My excuse is my sad bastard music. Or drunk and dead poets I shouldn’t listen to because look at where it got them – eternal glory, written fame. I’m not mad; I am lonely, settling into the same pattern of pretending to be brave with each calculated wave out of the window. You said let go. I don’t know – I just don’t know. Misery and absence are half of a coin. The other half’s better – remember we join at the hips like Siamese twins? Forgive me my mood swings, my casual sins; if you want me you have me, you don’t so that’s it until our next lives, our four millionth try – god made the shape of the world on your eyes and I know ’cause I saw it one night in my car, the single diamond reflection of star you true beautiful thing with a neck I would wring so hard so that no one could have you but me.

It is dumb fury, useless rage – it moves too fast to record on the page. I have one dream and it’s not even that wild but I would be putting myself in denial if I ever believed it would be. I have one thing that I keep like a secret; it’s a little thing I’ll never let free. I have lived too many lives already I am tired of telling stories.

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~ by perfectionatrix on November 15, 2011.

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