I came unprepared
for this undrinkable sea-water mixture of responsibility and still there it is,
desire. Did I think I could wipe clean the slate that had driven me into the
machine? I went in full of wonder and came out with all my bones broken. It was
a fairground I went looking for I think, but what I found instead was the kind
of one-and-a-half-sided Rubik’s-cube love story that made me profess, I’d
rather take a closed-fist beating from him than ever live through that again. This dark machine surprised me, a carousel on fire like a phoenix, leaving no
ashes for me to rise from, and I only had dripping wax wings to madly flap
toward the sun with, and fall into the ocean, and sink, dragged by the weight
of what could have been a lot of Yankee Candles. I always liked the buttercream
one the best.
His words have the sting of a scorpion, daggers that protrude from his eyes, the body language of sinister mob boss, yet behind all that, somewhere deep..very deep is the person I love or that I loved...is he real or did I make him appear something he wasn't....
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