ten minutes ago
i was talking to a woman
whose background i'm
aware of

this woman was pretty and she looked
at me with ****** interest

however: i moved my left arm in
a way that is related to my background as
a fatherless boy

rejection in her eyes the consequence

BUT:

i will never stop to move my arms as i learned moving them
–– precisely this way –– in my childhood

nobody –– male female animal or object –– is able to change this:
i do not need anybody trying.

feel me. that's how i am.

self-acceptance. self-love. courage.

What's your star sign? Let me guess a Leo?
I felt it. You're strong.
And charming.
Proud even, like a lion.

I'm a Pisces, a romantic...
Oh, you are too? Ok!
You like a challenge as well,
yeah, me too.

And you're an adventurer.
An artist as well. Smart and Free.
I like your soul. Your face. Your body.
I love, your mind.

I barely get lost. I know my way around the world.
I know how to protect myself against monsters.
Even my own. But your eyes;
I'm lost. I know the exit, yet not where they lead to.

Don't give me the map. Its ok.
I can handle it. Let the green light be the guide.
You're fragile and sensitive.
You're bare, unfiltered.

I like that a lot. And you like me too?
I'm...in awe. Wow. You? Really?
I...thank you, beautiful lady.
I appreciate you.

What can you teach me?
Lets exchange lessons.
A give and take.
You seem wise. Enlighten me.

You saw a blueberry
On the corner of the sidewalk
Something you shouldn't have noticed
But unexpectedly took interest
In a blueberry
On the sidewalk

With each passing day
You'd see that blueberry
And with each passing day
You looked forward to it
To a blueberry
On the sidewalk

But eventually, the leaves will fall
And the snow will come
People will move on
And nothing will be left
Nothing at all
Not even a blueberry
On the sidewalk

How shall i proceed? the question lingers on my mind,
To follow my head, or this heart of mine,

Everyone around me says no, its not what is done,
And for me to not follow this yearning, would be anything but fun,

Where do we stand when deciding what to do,
Body, mind and spirit, all having their view,

I for one cannot tell you the answer,
What is false and what is true,
There is only one who writes your story,
and that person is you.

I'm spent
No more lyrics of love and metaphors
The words fell out like mouthfalls
Each rock struck a new poem
Each glistening rainbow a new idea
Each droplet of mist my persistence

I'm spent
I thought it was beautiful to see life
To truly see what it's like to be free
Now I envy the lovestruck fools
Blinded by their individuality
Ironically enveloped in community
Head up *** and foot in mouth

I'm spent
What's the use in giving my thoughts
Everyone either relates or claims false
I'm a liar, a beggar of attention
***** of Babylon I beg on my knees
Waiting for one true prince to pick me
Like that daffodil I pressed in a book
I don't want the prince, or the flower
I want to be alone.
But I hate to be alone.