in which she is a ghost, a cupid, a starfish and a doll!

a tribute indeed; march, you and i soon after. a rotting hand over my heart, came curious into the latter for it stirred another end to a start. april, with dirty eyes, could beat for these hands rubicund sage, so spit back out a thousand seeds, keep my tears into piles of rage. you sit in peace now, across the other world, silent on your perfect pile of violets. but i wanted all those lies, those carved pretty shapes of 'forever' that has been french kissed with death.

even when the truth is, i still have dreams of unused rhetoric spinning in blank intangibles. it is a non-sequitorial clause, a different domain; this feigned fantasy of the reality i want to see so badly. a repetition of the repetition of a constant constant; like maths and symmetrical equations just spinning around and around me. but what if i were to say it? what if i were to say something like...? - infatuation incapsulates more motivation than love does. now, of course this is wrong, but this is also true!

somwhere along the way, i became aware of the atoms in me that were changing, everything that i have always hated about myself that i know now remains unabashed. through the corridors in my cognitions, apparitions kept arriving, as clear as i can see, so bright, full of movement and definition, and out (the doors are open!), finally out! i began to understand the magnitude of self-reliance and acceptance (as opposed to denial!), and the conception that, aside for yourself, noone will and can ever truly accutely understand, ever completely be sincere in listening or ever really live your life save for yourself! and if for the longest time i have yearned for balance, some impulsive act of vengeance, i realise now, what it was that was out of my grasp and what i no longer needed. because it was then, and it is now, that i have always known more than you and i could have ever thought.