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I confessed my adoration declaring my undying affection along with my true intentions
You declined most gracefully (clear and concise)
Narrating you do not share the same sentiments, (it was a forgone conclusion)
Letting me down eventually yet elevating my spirits every time you smile;  
If you reciprocated even a decimal point of devotion or a fraction of affinity I hold for you
Metaphorically speaking it would acquire the vast space that now occupy all the stars in the known cosmos
For my affection towards you ran across time through galaxies extending throughout the infinite interstellar, finally resonating to the heavens unsettling angels and almighty god  

In space time is redundant; direction hold no relevance and gravity is absent
Similar to the romantic intentions you have for me – literally none existent
You will always occupy that pedestal you once accused me I have erroneously placed you on
I will always hold the candle for you, step off a bridge if you asked me to

I would rather deserve medals and not have them; than to have medals and not deserve them
Very much like you – case and point
Maybe you are like the sunset I only have the privilege of admiring its magnificence from a far
But never to retain it for myself I have to let go once the dusk disappear giving way to the stars

But I like to still envision; let my imagination run rampant; then contemplate in accordance to the   “Many Worlds Theory” that somewhere in the unknown multiverse, vibrating in a different frequency, we co-exist ecstatically ; now living & sharing an apartment in New York city; enjoying Chinese takeaway drinking cheap wine while listening to all your favourite songs from the nineties.  (Specially the Goo Goo Dolls, The Verve and Matchbox Twenty)
Seriously doubting my creativity questioning my writing skills due to the outcome and final print of this ballad i fear it got too personal, hence look forward to some constructive criticism from my usual suspects: 0
Our picnic days are over,
The cherries are all done,
The clouds are darkening the sky,
And it’s chilly in the sun.
The strawberries are bitter now,
The wine has lost its taste,
The bread and cheese is hard and stale,
My broken heart lies with the waste.

Our picnic days are over
And the smell of new-mown hay
Is just a sad reminder
Of a sultry summer’s day
When we lay beneath a golden sun,
But the gold has turned to rust,
Those sultry summer days are gone,
My broken heart lies in the dust.
In case anyone is wondering, yes, it was my heart.

Our Picnic Days Are Over © Bill Adair 2015
"What would you do for loved ones?"
"Anything."
"What would you do for yourself?"
"Nothing."
"Why not?"
"It's selfish."
"Why is it selfish?"
"Because I'm okay being alone.
They're not."
"First, just because you're okay
Being alone doesn't mean
you should be.
And second, you're not alone.
You have me."
We were boys, once.
Our mother liked to dress us in tailored suits and leather shoes.
Every Sunday morning. Ready bright and early for mass at 11.

We'd sit in the classroom at the back of the old church hall.
After mass. After the chatter of voices hushed down to whispers; virtuous gossip.

Our teacher fed us images of hellfire and brimstone.

*** and sin.

Satan in a red cape and Halloween horns.

He didn't always look like that.
Oh, no. Mother said that he'd come out all dressed in a suit like mine.

He'd be handsome! His voice would be a choir of one billion ****** souls and once you'd hear it, you'd never want it to stop.

In my eight-year-old mind, I wondered what he did and what he felt when his own father cursed his name.

Did he stare at his dad with his thousand-eyes? Did he protest?

Did he laugh as he fell? In a cascade of feathers and blood.

Maybe he was better off without him.
He'd spend the rest of eternity trying to prove his father wrong. That he was worthy of his love:

That he would be the only son to grieve for the mistake of humanity.

The holy adversary.

The one who would shout his love for The Lord until his throat cracked dry and his chest ached. He, who could see the suffering of his father's own creations.

He, who tempted Eve and proved God wrong and we were flawed from the very beginning. Did he watch Eve eat the apple and savor every bite?

He loved his father.

Did he deserve it?

I stopped going to church on my eighteenth birthday.

What kind of parent would **** one son and praise the other?

Who would let one son be nailed to a board and the other to rot in flames?

Even as a child, I knew.

Through every slap, scold and bruise.

I would never bow.
Your hand brushed against mine, heat slithered up my thigh,
A python of mystery and allure, temptations offering more.
I tried to avoid your eyes, to avoid facing all those lies,
But I wanted us to burn, deep into the sheets, igniting skin,
Skin on fire, liar liar, pants on fire.

I wanted nothing more, than to send you up in flames
Smoke dancing around your lungs, tightening your chest
The way I couldn't breathe, when you played such cruel games.
I longed for your eyes to sting, in a way you couldn't rest
Eyes on fire, liar liar, pants on fire.

And when we come up for air, with sweat upon our brows,
But not enough to put these flames out,
I hope you inhale the way you made me feel
And I'll watch it lick you, the way I didn't any more,
Into the sorriest ashes, smouldering on the floor,
Skin on fire, liar liar, pants on fire.
i said i was fine--liar.
i said it was okay--liar.
i told you i wasn't angry--liar.
I've told so many lies, yes i lied.
Guess i'm a liar liar pants on fire
hanging from a telephone wire.
So now this little Liar Liar can no longer ascend higher.
Yes, she will burn in the Demon's fire.

Repent if it is her desire but she'll be nothing more than a stupid little Liar Liar.
People don't know
Anything.
People won't know
Unless
We
Talk.
And that is why
No one knows
Anything.
Because
No
One
Will
Talk.
If people say they know us as well as they think they do, or as well as they should, they should know me by now.
I know them. They don't talk, but I still know.
So, why this unfairness? Towards me?
Why do I try so hard?
When they don't try at all?
I'm not going to change; it's who I am.
But I can vent. :)

— The End —