when will the perfectly curated frames of the most desirable parts of our lives become true? the emphasis of the adored versions of oneself will continue our demise. we strip back the layers of what is actually there, only to find everything we’ve hated of others. the projection of insecurity lay dormant, until the antithesis of yourself appears at your nose. forgive the body you inhabit for you’ve robbed it of cognitive nutrition.
is this when we start loving others?
we must see others as we come. understanding our differences and loving them just the same. we must rip off the guise of status, as it’s been blinding us since birth. innately capturing every ounce of joy left in our bodies while comparison crashes it’s deafening cymbals. as we are all skin and bone. and bleed when cut. we are all the same. we will forgive others, for treating them as if they were any different from the same dust we came from. for we’ve robbed them of peace.
You did not leave like I thought you would Each hard time by my side you've stood Truthfully, I owe you this; An explanation for how it feels when we kiss You were quick to believe I didn't care You were not seeing what was really there I did not fall for some other man You say I gave up one day and ran You do not know how hard it was to let you go Fact is I was no longer helping you grow Doesn't mean I wasn't still haunted by your face I wished daily to feel your embrace The most beautiful longing ever felt Within body control began to melt Stalked by memories of what we were Hidden feelings started to stir Realized I couldn't live that way Without your touch brightening each day Guess that brings me to where we are now Standing before you and I don't know how We arrived at this point but here we are Close yet still so very far Reaching out to grab your hand Hoping we don't waste this one last chance
We always argued about who was more amazing I believed it was you, you swore it was me But now I see that perhaps we are equals Two perfect halves truly meant to be
I wrote this not overthinking and trying to let the words flow. How did I do?
i'm a yellow chill a daffodil in the rain thought i found my place kinda heard to explain
sip each glass of wine your palette needs a rest taste his *******'s brine along your lips
signing documents you can't help hide your grin sweat beading down your brow my nervous penmanship
is this what they call peace four hundred dollars an hour the clock says nine past three rounding up minutes they devour
caught you dead to rights my son's new step father when he sees your blight harvest grapes turn sour
i feel constant dread our son can't cope the truth so far above his head your soulless attribute
i'm a daffodil, more like a coward in the rain.
These troubadours, between truth and lies, corrupt lovers, women and husbands and keep saying that Love proceeds obliquely A tenso (Old Occitan [tenˈsu, teⁿˈsu]) is a style of troubadour song. It takes the form of a debate in which each voice defends a position; common topics relate to love or ethics.