I walked into life's library to seek perhaps adventures there.
Not really knowing what I sought my expectations unaware.

I looked first at the non-fiction upon shelves marked clearly with tape.
The more I looked yet did I realize it was from that I sought escape.

I chanced upon a section where great imagined dramas did abound.
Where mystic stories and strange creatures on the pages could be found.

Caught briefly by the imagined on the pages with heroes deeds upon.
I realized all was fantasy so through the pathway of books I ventured on.

Time passed as it tends by some scale that seemed so erratic in its flow.
As shelves and stories passed me by along the route I chose to go.

I came then to a section with a long queue of people standing there.
Patiently in their place and each with determined and focused stare.

What was it that drew them and caused this lengthened line?
Their looks suggested that the need, was very much like mine.

I had passed so many shelves with random people here and there.
But no other shelf or section for which this queue I could compare.

Through strong and strange compulsion I resolved to take my chance.
To join the much sought after line toward the shelf of "Love and Romance".

"If through me you’ll seek and try,"

Says the Spirit,

"I’ll raise you high."

He sees me.
The stranger looks deep,
deeper Into me
than I see myself and analyse and care to critique the way
that I'm conducting myself.
He's harsh with his eyes
but
He doesn't know me.
scrutinizing every pore
every hair that stands in place,
every conscious thought and un-thought.
He thinks he doesn't
But he does.


Like a whirlpool of judgement that swirls in a silver reflection, I stare at the man that stares at me.
he seems familiar and now I judge him.
the table turns to see myself
staring at this silvery
this...
this...
Imposter
that
I think
that
I know.

Sneaking out seeking souls to sleep with, holding hands with helpless hollow horror, waiting for wholeness and *****-ness to wisp wetness, vulnerable and vindictive vicious boys prey, and eat away at me and my "magnificent" attention seeking adored abdomen, ******* that broke boyfriends from girlfriends just to fill the fluctuating depression fracturing my frail heart.

don't fall in love with the first person that gives you a little bit of attention.

I'm searching for a genie at the bottom of every bottle.
But three wishes will only last a little while.
So I'll just sit and sip on my own sorrow,
But you know I'm still going to try again tomorrow.

I'm searching for some rhyme or reason,
Why I'm still here in this mental prison.
Maybe so I'm forced into self-reflection.
But you know I'm stuck in this misdirection.

I'm searching for a mountain at sea level.
Hardly a man and more of a scarecrow.
I look like a person but I'm **** near hollow.
But you know you're a mountain and I'm just a pebble.

If I told you I love you, that I care for you, maybe even desire you... would you have me arrested?