In a cross between distortion and redemption, soft pleas reveal and ease our hidden tension. It's only right to fix the buckled road that led to this: to mix up what is left and what there isn't.
I am mixed up in what's left and what there isn't.
Is love unlimited? Could I amend all that I did? admit defeat and use my walls to bridge the distance? I'll add my fragment thoughts up with my heart's holy persistence. Oh, tell me there's a way to bridge the distance.
The lengths that I would go to bridge the distance.
*Perhaps I should stand still instead in this specific instance.
pleas and hints l'éveil doux du prince I'm convinced que je connais sa langue. que devrais-je faire, si, oh, au contraire and too late, I realize I'm wrong?
I think of it seldom and briefly, respecting my wellness as, chiefly, I am motivated by my emotions and the power of preconceived notions that may not even exist.
You remembered the honey to go with the cream for the tea that I drink while I'm reading. Later I'll bend like the bind of my book so to show you the depth of its meaning.
emotion, mood, & temperament: scope-events in threes. weather, climate, atmosphere, roots & trunks & trees. tinder, fuel, afire: all was what what is will be. I look to see, envisioning for id, ego, & me.