Frivolous At Heart

Committed.

“I love thee without rhyme nor with reason
I love thee without memory or feign acceptance
I love thee without remorse nor treason.
I love thee blindly for cause and perception.”

I love thee whether thee loves me or not. I love thee in merry times and the difficult hour. I choose to love thee because it is the human expression of joy and humility. I mutter those three overly used words without question nor without levy.

“The love you have given to me is instilled in my body, my blood, my being. ” -Mi

Isn’t that the love I’ve given enough? Does it cast shadows for doubts spite the tree with spirited love who’s roots are deep with iron for nails and lava for blood to insinuate for folly that follows for the stubborn girl stuck in a maze? Let I not cast the first stone for I have no mortal sin. Flesh of my flesh and blood of all bloods leave trail for cinder as The ashes mixed with pigment and intertwine like lively wine; a class of Pinot Noir I guess for all and forever more. A trail of death as droplets form of rosie hue as the saints play then now where a hollow husk lays benign like unrefined wine for all to swiss and swiss and spit.

Says I, prefer that Cabernet else wouldn’t I taste such flavory. For morsels so tender in texture vexes me to such extent. To have or not to have, that is a dignified question of moral seclusion. Says I, I’ll one here or maybe thrice! I liquored man I am dine such a meal on savory wine. No one knew how kind or perhaps how blind I was. For preferences, that sly devil on Prada heels, soon gives instincts for casting stones that shatter and break my now weakened bones.

Alone I parade with my own charade. One man one heart now shopping without a cart. To fill empty space within my heart with all the love I’ve stole leaves me a little smart. A black hole I say. Been shopping all day five-finger-discounts all over to make me stay. No matter how much I’ve stole, it doesn’t seem enough. I’m lost with words my love. I’m lost without you. The apple of my eye.

How have we been? Stretched out days on end without the breath to catch
nor the light to see because without your love siding mine foresighted such
delirium hath’ taken place in this wretched world. I need your warmth, I need
your breath.

How has’th you’ve gone in seconds but the penal sum lingers in my head like
the rapping on my door- rapping tapping at my hearts edge. I’ve been seen
you days ago but my laborsome trek has far outgrown the fruitful nectar of
your divine touch. I need more of it, I need lots of it, I simply cannot go on
with the thought of knowing you are near.

My love, my darling love. Hither’ hasn’t not linger for a souls outreach to be
twined like slivers of gold and knowing how bold I’ve been yet I wrap around
your very slender fingers like yard be spun; like gold be mated. I have not
had one nights sleep for I cannot sleep without you. Far away I am but so
in-need of you I cannot deny. You are the many facets I conjure up to keep
company, myself, nights without sleep: for every full moon I see, I see your
beauty that contours the menacing pits and that I am in an ecstatic reverie
for the beauty and every tangents the gray clouds would throw at it.

As rivers are naturally occurring, it is within essence that water too, is natural. Can you hold faults of the river for flowing? Can you hold faults of the river for churning? Can you fault something that’s continually changing? No, you cannot for the river cast and mimics hues of various facades above the surface. I will know the river only by its shape and no more. Its name only as the river. Its wakes only by minute ripples and its soul by the morning mists.

Can you picture such candid imagery? No, you simply cannot. No, you simply cannot do without. It is all not but lust yet lust without thought. It is something we simply cannot deter nor can we deny. Something we cannot live with nor can we live without. It is a pocket of fresh air to most yet at times, it strangles us like so drowning in our own breathe- breathes we take without the pleasure of knowing that its tainted. Tainted with another one’s thought. Thoughts of another brewing within us through every breathe. The only escape is another breathe but still, its tainted. Tainted with another thought. Tainted with you. Tainted with me.

How are you lost when you have not begun? How are you found when you have not been displaced? What parts of you aloft and how do you fair when skies are gray? Do you not feel the urge to let go and be free? Free from all that were and all that was. Free from yourself; your own ambitions. What lacks here can be made up there. What lacks there can be found through I. You find perfection when looking through someone else’s faults. It is not to say that all are diseased and unfit; it is saying that light shall pass where there are shadows. Shadows that plague and covert when there are feelings of hopelessness, apathy, and all that deranges and confuse our mental status. Look above the stars for you are lost.

I am compelled to say the least that I shall not speak of my lustful fervor any longer. I have once said that the passion encased in my heart shall not be forgotten and that it were no light switch to match the threads sewn deep within parts of my heart to ever let I forget those feelings had I once reaped for my own growth. To be a man like I is to dine life with cold slender fingers and one perceptive sharp brow.

It is quite evident that I have grown and surpassed such petty childish formulations. I turn life on its hind, define bigots and the enamored in a whole totally new perspective. Very unorthodox. The rivers and rocks that inhabit beneath shall admire me for I am unchanging. Wishes and dreams are washed away like the Autumn leaves that fall during Spring. It’s not Autumn but Spring… It’s not a full moon… It’s the wrong time within the right moments. Like I, wishes are washed away like a paper boat set free during heavy rains by an innocent child. Wrong time within right moments. I am Autumn.

No longer shall I verbalize one sentence, word or thought upon this fickle situation. It has not been a waste but it has been dreamful for the allure that stages and sings to I within thee sleep. I wake upon it like I do with little thought as the air fills my lungs to full capacity. Exhaling, I feel and note nothing of odd and nothing of all. I had be denied of most simple things and I shall sweep this underneath my dining carpet and done with saids I.

I end my journey here, I end my stake there, I’ll keep and eye out for more. The allures of life yet may still await. No longer shall I hold such peace at heart and no longer shall I hold the owner at will. You are free from my view and I no longer look through stained glass. Like the breeze that blows sand off sidewalks, I am the sand and not the breeze.

My heart has stopped beating momentarily only to realize I have waken to a new moment pressed on by my desire to hold on. I have yet to regain my dominance over worldly obligations. For to wake in moments of agony glorifies my needs to stamp out the rage that surrounds me. It is more pleasant to keep the dark and the dimness at bay than it is to inflict it upon the living. Held on by what slivers of yarn inlaid by veins of the heartless to keep sane. I am enriched by the heavens and condemned by living.

To cut my tongue slightly and let the blood trickle behind my throat to know that I’m still capable as a human, as a person, as a man; to still love what deserves to be loved… myself, ourself, my precious. The sinew that keeps my heart from darkening in places I am complacent and little do I know, I’m dragged slowly on the sandy gravel that rips my skin open while the tightening shackles on my ankle decides to eat through my flesh. The pain is unimaginable yet I find comfort and self-worth for petty and intangible reasons. Reasons that I think are not good
enough for love; a lover’s infection.

My thoughts are skewed and facades left unattended; I’m broken. I’m misunderstood and so my trail of spotty blood patterns seem to recede under the threshold- left by the door – kicked, scuffed and stepped on. Were I given entrance at all? Have I been marked by you, looked over and forgotten?

The feelings are mutual I guess and so I assume it is time to severe all bonds that connect us or rather, the bonds that connect I to you. Mutual I guess and mutual I assume. I would go on my ways as a lost soul once again until I drift to another light, to one light, that will guide my footfalls true and hinder my entrance no more. No more I say! I and you did never exist but perhaps a pretense for myself, for I; hope is not lost.

Nomad:

I have not had interest in anyone for quite sometime and so my feelings are now,… in an environment of unstable heretical thoughts. My emotions are bleak to non-existing. Though I do find myself confined and always anticipating for peril. I am a person whom you would say very unconventional. I am for the most part, very unconventional and very liberal. Though many see it as being odd and perhaps thinking that I’m a FREAK. I
must oblige for to be normal is to be uninteresting.

Perhaps I have had interest in a particular person but did not come to the realization of ever seeing her again. I may sound harsh and often reflect this state upon my own rational thoughts but I do admit, I’m pleased to have seen her once gain. From within, my longing for this person, goes back many years, has captivated me for the better half of me. I still am the most calm and resolute person as I’ve always been. Still, she captivates me in an ironic approach… she shows me there are still people out there with spunk. I find that very appealing. Don’t you think so? I knew that you would.

I find life to be very interesting simply for the fact that life in itself, is a mirror for the past and the present. I’ve foreseen all that can be and all that was. I’ve lost a step or two and can no longer see in a direction I have come to be accustomed to… carefree. I do not have it in myself to genuinely care for many and the masses but only for a few. I am the water that quenches your thirst and I am the many bodies that interlay the sources of an enigma: I am complex.

With many facades one can display, there is ultimately a single person within a person; an image erected from within another that feigns and lacks wholeness. I try not to dupe myself into something I do not want to become. Something I loathe and evidently,… I have become. You see it with your eyes but taste the drift by the prickly hair behind the nape. Sometimes GOD burdens us with an extra sense. It’s solemn the way how one vision can intervene another. How is that your hindsight differs from your first impression?

I am like the many raindrops betrayed by the heavens to fall without wings. I am pure within but seem so fictitious as the stagnant pond waters I inhabit. I am surrounded by the inanimate, I am engulfed by it’s flames. I am the pyre that is blind in both eyes for I choose no sides. As the heaven’s roar cannot quench my thirst, I cannot be dispatched nor can I be remedied of my desires for her. I am inconclusive

“Uncouth and lined with gold, a heart with many aches. Inseams from left to right bringing along fevering blight. Threaded with strands of silver encased in a thrice prison. Murmur here, a quiver there, no voice exists, O but bliss. Perchance some air or certe perhaps glinted signs of light. Choking and gasping, no one knows and no one cares. Signs of desperation are not noticed as the tears run dry. Thoughts are for one lover, considerations are for two.”

As lovers, you take each other in sweet embrace knowing that your love is undying and appreciated mutually. As you both engorge in a fanatic lovers twine, some realize all there that exists is love. One may question compatibility whilsts the other is captivated as they dream of dreams. All lovers fret but at times, you realize you both are not meant for one another. Love that person to only see them gone. If you hold on, both of you will be like rocks under a river bed weathering together but perchance, one rock will weather a saturated hue as both will not grey in unison. With that knowledge, the only reason one person has not been washed to shore is self-pity for the others happiness. Such a sacrifice but who will think of you whilsts you are too busy anticipating for an unjust cause? Ignorance is bliss for loving someone who loves you for pity sakes. Such gyse you have brought forth whilsts playing an advocate for Louie. Your heart learns to love and shall love for merit. Tortured by your own devices, you find solas in blank books for you have written none.

I do not know why I have chosen this path to farther demoralize myself self-consciously and physically. I know not why I have nor do I have it within to banish the shadows that plague this encased body. I have shown great manner and appreciation to and towards a many- bound to nothing; I am free.

In fine glances, I see nothing and feel there is no need for etching due notes. For to keep note, it is like writing in the air with quill but no parchment. Useless scribing of graced limb to no ends met. I find myself in a constant battle of epic proportions between truth and fantasy. I see truth. Things that are, will be; things that are instill are devoid; things that have shape, will have none. As the wind thrashes and howls, sand will be sand and does not compliment nor does it yield to the wind. Sand will be sand. It moves ever so lightly yet so abrasive; each grain of sand.

No matter what song is sung, it never seems to be in synced with such luscious rhythm: rhythm of chasteness. It is so and it will be. To impregnate a prism with soft caresses does nothing as such a prism bears no goost to reflect what has already been hinted. You are voiceless to a box that has-noth ample resonance.

The desire, shapeless; fares like flickering flames abound that dances and sways with the lightest breathe. Desires are like the clouds splashed upon the horizon never knowing what shape to take upon itself to become. Moved by the heavens, it has no will of it’s own but rather, it is surreal in nature and carves it’s own path. It flows unbroken in it’s formation and tends to drede the direction it happens to be leading. Blind it is.