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this love of fate is true

You, My chimera, were
          so woven into
      this rippling fabric
I wore as a man
  in love

& fate, She is more
than haute couture; She
   is a pair of jeans worn
& torn & patched up well.
         She is timeless in

living&walking, knowing
   I gave it all       to You.
My kizmit,   You gave Me
new    heartache, which
       I will plant, & reap

                            amor fati.
i've written a lot about love and fate. to me, they are two of life's surest things. they are everywhere & they are sweet. growth, another sure thing, is hard, but it's through growth that i have learned that i love You.

amor fati is a double-edged sword, though, so let love, fate & growth teach me that, although i love You, You are not mine to love. & that is okay.
I'm a beat up old dog.
My name is just Bill.
I think I'm 76 in your years.
I have stories ugly still.
I know cruelty and kindness.
I've had good luck and bad.
I've been with lovely *******
and some lost in eternal sad.
I'm just a bother in the way
they want to put me down
limping each painful day
hold me under 'til I drown.
closed your eyes & I imagined
how You felt;  the itch of the sun,
the thirsty breeze & My sating gaze

You looked so beautiful  ,  then  ,
quenched by    love & wanting,
flowered&budding a new meaning
of what it is to just Be,so perfectly
A man, dejected
with a broken heart,
snapped all the ties
from his world,
roamed about places
one to the next
in search of peace.

One day he found himself
in a distant Fairy Land.
The fairies were surprised
to find him amongst them.
One fairy asked him
what he wanted.
Taken aback by the question
he said ,"A new heart."
The fairy said,"Don't worry, we do have a heart shop."
She took him there.
There he saw all kinds of hearts-
Some made of gold, some of silver,
and some normal too.

In another corner he saw
a collection of broken hearts
beautifully kept.
Out of curiosity he asked the fairy
why they kept those broken hearts.
She smiled and said,
"They are the epic story tellers."
Amazed by her words,
he left with his broken heart
back to his world.
“have there been any safety concerns
since last week?”
“no,” i lie,
hoping she doesn’t
see the truth
sitting heavy in my eyes.

“have there been urges?”
“yes,” i say,
truthfully,
but like i’m afraid she’ll flinch.

“why don’t you act on them?”
“because i’m not allowed to anymore.”
it was the truth,
just wrapped in a lie.

she smiles.
“that’s adorable.”
I want someone to slap me
And chop off my head
I hope it's painful
And that it will continue to be painful for the few minutes before I am dead
My friend is mad at me and so I wanna die so bad rn. Just sitting in the car unable to breathe or stop crying. What the **** is wrong with me?
she keeps one finger on the steering wheel
some of the time, a half *** deal
she speeds because she’s perpetually behind
but deep down at the back of her mind
should an accident just happen to occur,
this would ensure that she would not recur.
should cancer take her body as its host
her reaction would perhaps be more positive than most
for no one would reason her apathetic bent
the why, when she would not opt for treatment.
she danders in storms because she would rather like
to be the victim of a lightning strike
she knows it’s selfish but
she can’t help but wish
there was a collateral free option to cease to exist
all she wants is to simply fade
to softly but swiftly escape the mess of life she made
it ebbs and flows, the urge to act is tidal
hence why she is termed; passively suicidal

sometimes i let go of the wheel
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