There I was, presuming in one of my guilty pleasures.
Letting the words on a page create in imagine in my mind, my own imagines.
It's the biggest reason why I enjoy, what I enjoy, I get to involve myself with another woman's work and make it come together.
There I was, when I felt something but that wasn't what was new.
The process of having all those words be gently put together as it creates a story, always made me feel some type of way.
But this time, it was the essence of Deja-vu flushing over me that moved my attention elsewhere.
It was a sorrowing tone.  

How come I'm always able to see the good in someone, ways they are never able to view me?
How can I separate the flaws and obscurities of an individual, to take them for who they are, when they don't take the chance to know who am I truly am.
I notice those things.
I notice everything.
There is this content-ness living inside of me.
Helping me, exhale the calm air.
With that, I have the ability to feel right and wrong.
Last night was the preliminary example.

About last night.
No one is able to surprise me.
I'm too familiar with lies and signs being thrown at me.
With that being said, I can't even surprise myself. I know me, too well.
As we sat there, we had an empty conversation.
It was like we were talking to ourselves, only with question marks at the end for the other to answer.
A conversation so meaningless, I can't seem to remember.
Body language was spoken and it told me, he wasn't the only. Not even close.
Funny though,
At some point I was all about feeling too much, all the time, and now?
I feel nothing.
I even forget about how our eyes met for a split second because although they traced back to each other, I didn't feel the lust we had pulling us to anything closer.
I guess that is all we could be.
That is all we would ever be.
Lust.

To those who left.

You pressed the push to start on me becoming myself again, a better version of me.
As the engine roaring,
I continued to accelerate but you stayed behind.
Behind in the faceless crowd.
You no longer had visual of me and I no longer considered having you in my sight.
I progressed, I exceeded.
I continued down my own road and yes, while you helped have the start of that happen,
I became who I am today, by my lonesome.
I encouraged myself, I motivated myself, by myself.
See, you were only the key switch that began my race.
My roar become more than you could handle and you vanished into the smoke I call my successful breathes, after having so many dreadful sighs.
Now you want to say that I've changed.
To say that I accelerated too hard, that I'm caught up in the fumes.
But the real question remains, how would you know?
You stayed behind, no longer the one in my passenger seat.
Only watching from what you could see on the sidelines.
As for myself, I continue to get comfortable in this new lane I've created for myself.
I continue to get comfortable in this better life of mine.

It's a cycle of repetition.
Mesmerizing a smile.
Falling for the eyes.
Having their voice echo in your head throughout the day.
You go through the phases, yet they don't.
Finishing a race, not realizing they have already quit.
As if they were the rabbit and you were the turtle,
doubtfully but entirely getting ahead.
Failing to notice that the break they took,
was a sugar coating way of splitting to a separation, forever.
Today's love is nothing of love.
Only empty promises and wandering souls floating in and out of others.
You wonder why they take your time as something so limitless.
The connection so quick and intense, that in the moment things seem okay,
but as the spark starts to die, you realize, it was nothing but a minor flame in a wild fire.
It was only, just a click.

I believe that in some universe, we were meant for this.
We were meant to make this into something great.
That the reason our fingers were separated was so when the time came, your touch was meant for mine.
I believe that reason we can't physically see ourselves without a mirror, is because we were supposed to fall for each other's attributes.
Your eyes were meant for me to fall for every time they brightened up about something you love.
Your smile was meant to break and fulfill my heart every time the wrinkles started to appear.
I believe your laugh is meant to be my favorite song.
I believe that your lips had the purpose of making me melt every time they would come across my skin.
I believe that somewhere, in a different time, your love was meant for me and you believe it too.
But this isn't another universe, this isn't just somewhere, we are standing on our time, as we speak, as I write.
We believed that it was a good thing.
That we were a good thing.
As we took time for granted, as we watched things drift away, it was no longer what it could've been.  
In this universe, the one we now experience in,
our time has ran out, the clock hands have stopped moving for us.
We're over.
In another universe that wouldn't have been okay.  In the universe we were meant for, this distance-full love would've been tragic, but here it isn't.
Over here, what we could've been is only memories.
I've accepted that in this universe, our connection wasn't meant to be traced back to one another like random magnets in a space-less box.
In this universe we aren't together and that's ok.
The memories are enough to keep me full for years to come.
The memories are enough to make me grin from time to time.
The memories are just enough.
Enough for me to except that in this universe, we were simply not meant for each other.
In this universe, that is all okay.

Thinking of you makes me numb.
As if my cloth-less body lays there, in iced water.  
But in time the water becomes hot
Having the warmth in my heart catching up with my thoughts of you, having it run through every nerve in my body submerging with the feelings of my insides, and the physical attributes of the outside.
While I soak up the water, I remember of how wet you made me.
How your fingers were surf boards and I to you, was the ocean, waiting on a tidal wave.
Your lips gave me comfort like a beach breeze climbing over me as you rolled on top.
But that was just the beginning.
Your body and mine intwine into one and suddleny I'm not alone anymore.
We are one.
Your strokes like waves and my arches like the ends.
Put together is almost amazing and endangering at the same time.
The water is falling.
I'm almost to my end but you aren't nearly finished.
Our eyes trace back to one an others and we stare for a while.
Your eyes like the moon and a smile like the sun.
So painful yet so beautiful but you have no idea of it.
Too bad this is just my emotions running around and drawing pictures of what things would've been like.
Of what it would've been like if sand didn't disappear into the air.
Of what it would've been like If you never left.

They thought she was healing, letting any guy get a taste of her forbidden fruit.
That even though no one could say they've had a bite, that she was out trying to find someone appreciative of her taste.
That she was just trying to find the light in it all.
They thought she was looking for her own acceptance inside an empty  man's soul and that whenever things were rough,
She needed that shadow figure she would call her own, to be around.
That she was selling herself short because when the prices were high for that one buyer, she was too much to be enough.
But it wasn't like that.
In her eyes, she was growing
breaking out of her self made cage that previous men provoked her into building.
Trapped in there for so many months.
That was her healing.
Her mind expanded, her scary thoughts extended their stay and became what to everyone was the surreal reality.
She grew, she moved on.
She has taken off her cuffs when she was ready to stop being prisoner in a self unloving comma
And now?
Her wings, they fly from beehive to beehive.
Not looking for love.
Not looking for herself.
But going for the muse she kept herself from.
She was going for the light that came with no longer staying dark.
The wild side.
Even though the other bees don't see it that way
It doesn't really matter.
Because if the honey is sweet, the honey is sweet
Now she's getting a taste.