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  • Writer's picturemhasley2


Updated: May 7, 2020

VERSE 20.09.05

Patience isn't something that I learned, it was something I grew into. Learning everyday to sale myself short on the crown that became due. Seldom taking chances that can break apart this code. Building bridges out of my births defective mould. Catching feelings for feeling like I can't feel. Reflections dance around memories of perfect miracles that remind that it's all real. Banking on myself to become the product of my destiny. Never stopping to analyze what I owe to the one I belong to as inherit property. Ending up in reflected time bending against my complacency. The arms move fast on this clock of distant uncertainties. Lusting for oral distractions courtesy of amusing clowns. Dodging rainbow bullets like collateral damages up and down. Seeking motivation from an empty source. Granting permission to suppressing this inner voice. Doubting self perception and capabilities. Weary of the journey cause its only me. Finally revealing the analysis of the risk.Permanently standing still too afraid to scratch this disk. Confusion on where to start and how to inflate. But the tree grows inside of the branch it creates. Creative in nature balancing the scales that we skate. Searching for a real love beyond what this journey may calmly imitate. Lacking ambition to bend the wind toward the blades of grass that point in the right direction. Instead opening parachutes landing captive mental erections. The Brain is ready to erase the diary of its daily risk. The next chapter will be a story on the lips of history during our first blissful kiss.

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