I never knew how much, how hard, how strong I wanted it,
Until it materialized before me,
I never knew how much I could thirst, until I saw a choice,
And couldn’t choose, either one,
I never knew the deepness of the tattooed codes,
Or how much of “weakness” I could hold,
Now I almost want to run away, forget it ever happened,
What growing did it create?
Am I finished, or did I just start?
Has it abated, or gone underground, to come roaring back again,
To burn more illusions down?
Will it return, to spur more hasty thoughts and actions,
Fill me with fuchsia purple and a melancholy excitement?
Is a league something to fear, or throw aside without a thought?
Can I step forward, knowing I can fly, if the ledge gives way beneath me?
Dream boats are often apt to sink, their bottoms eggshell thin,
Crushed from the waves and breakers of a blinded mind.
Though the wine that flowed over my tingling tongue,
Was of strong addiction,
I do not have to go back to the glass,
Lingering flavor will subside with dry swallows,
Or more quickly with the water of reality,
And I may come to forget, even faster with regretful shame.
But why not better be, with laughing acceptance,
Of my instinct, heal myself with truth,
That everything was natural and anticipated,
Not wrong to happen, perhaps lacking only knowledge,
Which I couldn’t have known, but now I hold,
Everything could change, you know,
Even now, thoughts solidify, and dreams are given.