"applicable" poems
Mahal na kilala kita sa simpleng haha
Minisage kita kahit di kita kilala
Sabi ko sayo hi ganda
Di ko inakalang mag rereply ka
Sabi mo salamat huh.
Sa simpleng batian tayo nag simula
Humaba ng humaba mga salita
Hanggang sa nakita ko
Ay hala mag kabirthday tayong dalawa
Mapag biro ang tadhana
Mas lalo akong naligaw sa bitag nya
Pero sa pag kaligaw ko nahanap kita
Sabay tayong na ligaw sa tamis ng tadhana
Tapos sabi mo mahal may sekreto ka
Mapag biro nga ang tadhana
Kasi kng gaanu katamis ang pag mamahal mo
Ganun din kasaklap ang katotohanang d pueding maging tayo
Di pueding maging tayo kasi may nakatali na sayo
Pero kinain ko ang lahat ng pait na to
At oo kasalanan ko
Ang dating maliit na biro ng tadhana
Naging libingan ko
Pero ayaw kong bumangon mula dito
Pinilit ko,pinilit mo at naging tayo
Kahit mapait pinilit natin na patamisin ito
At naging okay tayo
Ang saya nga ng birthday natin pareho
Sinupresa mo ako
At sa unang pag kakataon
Napag tanto ko na mahal mo nga ako
May pa cake kpa mahal at palobo
Tumulo ang luha ko
Kasi di ko inakala sa magiging masaya ako
Magiging masaya ang kaarawan ko
Kaya salamat sayo mahal ko
Pero habang tumatagal mahal
Mawawala na tayo
Halos di ko na maaninag ang iyong anino
Nalungkot ako
Pero bumalik ka mahal
At sinabi mo pabalik na siya
Ang nakatali sayo
Gumuho ang mundo ko
Ang dating hukay ngayon ang naging bangin
Wala ng takas sa sakit
Ang sabi mo aayusin mo mahal
Tataposin na ang dapat taposin
Pero paanu kng sa istoryang to
Ako ang pangalawa
Ako ang kirido
Ako ang maninira ng pamilya
At siya,sya ang una at ang pinakasalan mo sa harap ng dambana.
Mahal anu ang laban ko
Nasasaktan ako
At oo di ko pueding isisi sayo to
Kasi ginusto ko din naman.
Namalibing sa bangin na ito
Pinaglaruan tayo ng tadhana
Yung akala kong magiging masaya
Nasa binggit na ng kataposan nya
Ayaw ko man sana ipilit
Pero sa bawat hagupit ng sakit
Pangalan mo aking sinasambit
Mahal naririnig mo pa ba ako
Pag dumating siya panu na tayo
Maaalala mo pa kaya ang mga pangako mo
Na magiging masaya tayo
Kasi kung ganun kakainin ko na din ang pait na ito
Ou ako na bahala sa lahat ng pait
Basta mahal mangako ka
Di tayo aabot sa dulo
Pero paanu sakanya ka kasado
Ako,pangalawa lang ako
Nadudurog na ako
Gusto ko na sana taposin ito
Pero paanu kng mahal kita
Minamahal kita ng todo
Ngayon gusto mo palain ako...
Pero paanu kng sa bawat paalam mo
Sinasambit **** mahal mo ako
Mahal mo nga ba talaga ako
O mahal mo lng ako kasi binubou ko ang kulang niya sayo
Please kng aalis ka umalis ka lng
Kasi di applicable sa atin ang kng mag mahal ka ng dalawa piliin mo ang pangalawa kasi sa una pa lng nakatali kana.
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 4:08 AM UTC
Hark! Take heed, for this cake be both mighty and magnificent!
1.75 cups flour
2 cups white sugar
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
0.75 cups unsweetened cocoa powder
1 tsp. salt
2 eggs
1 cup (as in 8 fl.oz/250mL.) strongly brewed coffee (make more and drink it!)
1 cup buttermilk (or 1 tbs. white vinegar+1 cup milk mixed well, blah blah)
0.5 cups cocoanut oil (or 0.33 cups basicallywhatever oil), a little less if ***
1 tsp. vanilla extract
OPTIONAL:
2-3 shots (60-90mL; 0.2-0.33 cups) black spiced *** (Kraken, if at all possible)
I also want to experiment with whiskey/burbon.. if you try it, let me know!
--Flour, sugar cocoa powder, baking soda+powder, salt mixed in one bowl
-- eggs, coffee, *** buttermilk, oil, vanilla in another
Slowly mix the dry into the wet until as homogenous as possible.
I use an 8"x8" (20cmx20cm) pan @350F (175 C) for about 40 minutes, but I check on it at round 30 minutes because some variance may well apply. If you use olive oil, or avocado oil, or whatever other more fluid oil, I find a slightly hotter oven (375 F/190 C) can be advisable, but pay attention to your specific scenario! The worst that's happened for me is the top gets a bit crusty, but that pleasantly works with the overall moisture of the cake, especially with olive oil and the *** addition.
Do the toothpick test to see if it's ready!
Frosting is applicable, as well, because this Magical Cake is not horribly sweet for how horribly sweet it sure is. I usually just sprinkle some confectioner's sugar on it to make it look all fancy for my classy friends and band-mates.
ENJOY!
Bake responsibly, but have some fun.
Also, suffer the decimals!
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 8:53 AM UTC
when the milk light steals into my eyes—hey it’s grownups’ goodmorning
—I let your elbow go and then I pull it back again, soft metonymy (i
sometimes remember
when you’re awake, and abashed I keep it quiet
how you’re my favorite part
—of what?—not applicable, but this morning I remember
when your eyes are closed, and I let you feel how much I
feel you in my ribs when you’re all around me)
the punctuation of the days was always mine and I
couldn’t breathe as well without keeping the dark
for me just me
and still my eyelids weigh me down a little but
I don’t mind
hey goodmorning
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 9:20 AM UTC
dear, you cut me off mid-sentence.
for all my skills, techniques and terms
here's a thing i can't find a way to convey.
a narrative even beyond comprehension to it's protagonist
a girl without a simile or metaphor applicable?
somebody to leave me laconic, short in syntax, unstructured.
will we discuss possessive pronouns now?
for in subtext, i am the possessive one.
i'm so lacking verbally
but i'm sure you'd understand it contextually
to punctuate: i can be the ellipsis, the implication of my omissions
but you're in my text as the most eager mark of exclamation
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
No power in the 'verse
can stop her,
her name is a channel
in all directions,
it's just an object,
it doesn't mean what you think.
"Two-by-two, hands of blue."
Simon says safe passage
is such a slender thread,
a watered-down exchange,
it streams into
the substance of things:
objects in space.
"Two-by-two, hands of blue."
A life of Serenity,
it’s not applicable…
cold and naked,
dipping her feet
into a pond of impossibilities
—what she sees is seldom what she gets.
"Two-by-two, hands of blue."
~
Dec 23, 2021
Dec 23, 2021 at 11:19 AM UTC
I can feel the gravity
savage sadness grabbing me
like a stabbing agony
panicking heartbeat rapidly
like a drastic atrophy
my own tapestry of travesty
applicable calamity
catastrophe is my canopy
the faculty of tragedy
with no strategy for amnesty
the laxity of sanity
I can feel the gravity
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 4:57 PM UTC
Why do they appear so mystified?
As if every little thing must be justified
Moved to fit inside their small box
And look away when their key couldn't unlock
What they aimed to achieve
Does it ever make you giggle
When people call you fickle
But they're the ones whose eyes are fixed
On an object not quite literally applicable,
Something regarded as abstract, typically unseen
You see: I am a metaphor
And people stare at me.
© Melissa Carlson 2015
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 4:36 PM UTC
I feel a grim satisfaction as mud splatters on my white shoes.
What an appropriate metaphor for early adulthood.
My problems are not my own.
The sociological imagination has never
seemed so applicable.
We’ve all been dosed up
On dashes of passion,
splashes of intelligence
and just enough anxiety and depression
to approach existential nihilism and
We’re fed these lies of individuality but
We Know
we are only products of our youth and culture,
ones of many in the long production line
We claim
We are Art,
but We Feel
we’re just generated from streams of code,
prepared to fight to the death for
some algorithm that doesn’t even matter
And so I protest
I can’t just be a number
I am flesh and blood,
my knees are buckling under the
weight of this artificial perfection.
I’m not just a number,
My eyes are staring at the
the marks that
determine my worth, knowing
success is my only option
i am not just a number
My sanity is sinking and
drowning and
constantly fighting to stay afloat
But I am not just a number. -
My mind tells me I’m not making it--
How are these other people making it?
I’m determining my worth
on sets of standards that are as worthy as dust
And it is with these standards i am told
I am just a number.
I feel like
I can no longer speak
because I’ve been
shouting
at the top of my lungs
I AM NOT JUST A NUMBER
But my voice
is too quiet
And the world
is too loud.
I’m so tired of trying to be heard.
Yet these words still sound better
when I scream them,
not just scrawl them down
on scraps of paper.
for someone so happy
I'm so very angry.
for someone so happy
I'm so very sad.
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
See the walls that are to be for privacy
written on with lime green and hot pink.
These messages make me sick to my stomach.
Why are these so applicable to men wanting ***
Why is the biggest assumption of both men and women
that each wants ***
He may want feelings,
you have to get to know him better.
She may want feelings,
you have to listen carefully to her.
These messages are anti-feminist.
Quit assuming the worst from the gender that revolves your
****** orientation.
The public needs not to know what our point of view is on ***
Right time, right person.
It's ok to want, just keep it to yourself.
To the people who sign their name with a dash under the message,
we really don't care and there is a thing called journals.
Men and women should have the same rights.
Men and women should both be equally respected.
Men and women shouldn't have to be naked in order to impress the world.
Looking at this bathroom wall is disgraceful.
I prefer not to know what is going on in your pretty little
*** life.
Just erase the writing on the wall please.
Grafiti is good, just not this topic and not this place.
Thank you.
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 5:24 PM UTC
An art movement is a tendency or style in art
with a specific common philosophy or goal,
followed by a group of artists during a restricted
period of time, usually a few months, years
or decades or, at least, with the heyday of the
movement defined within a number of years.
Art movements were especially important in
modern art, when each consecutive movement
was considered as a new avant-garde;
According to theories associated with modernism
and the concept of postmodernism, art movements
are especially important during the period of time
corresponding to modern art. The period of time
called "modern art" is posited to have changed
approximately halfway through the 20th century
and art made afterward is generally called contemporary art.
Postmodernism in visual art begins
and functions as a parallel to late modernism
and refers to that period after the "modern" period
called contemporary art. The postmodern period
began during late modernism, which is a contemporary
continuation of modernism; and according
to some theorists postmodernism
ended in the 21st century. During the period of time
corresponding to "modern art"
each consecutive movement
was often considered a new avant-garde.
Also during the period of time referred to as "modern art"
each movement was seen corresponding
to a somewhat grandiose rethinking of all that came before it,
concerning the visual arts. Generally
there was a commonality of visual style
linking the works and artists
included in an art movement. Verbal expression
and explanation of movements has come
from the artists themselves,
sometimes in the form of an art manifesto,
and sometimes from art critics
and others who may explain
their understanding of the meaning of the new art
then being produced;
In the visual arts, many artists, theorists, art critics,
art collectors, art dealers and others mindful
of the unbroken continuation of modernism
and the continuation of modern art even into the contemporary era,
ascribe to and welcome new philosophies
of art as they appear. Postmodernist theorists
posit that the idea of art movements
are no longer as applicable, or no longer as discernible,
as the notion of art movements
had been before the postmodern era.
There are many theorists however
who doubt as to whether or not such an era
was actually a fact;
or just a passing fad.
The term refers to tendencies in visual art,
novel ideas and architecture,
and sometimes literature. In music it is more common
to speak about genres and styles instead.
See also cultural movement, a term
with a broader connotation.
As the names of many art movements
use the -ism suffix, for example cubism and futurism,
they are sometimes referred to as isms
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
I can feel the gravity
savage sadness grabbing me
like a stabbing agony
panicking heartbeat rapidly
like a drastic atrophy
the tapestry of travesty
applicable calamity
catastrophe is my canopy
the faculty of tragedy
with no strategy for amnesty
the laxity of sanity
I can feel the gravity
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 2:47 PM UTC
*why do people always pain themselves to write as if they could ever be understood, when so few read them, and even a fewer number care to understand? and why do so many ably bodied ******* themselves with writing? why have they lost the taste for fresh air and instead chose a wheelchair that writing is?*
in legal terms - are you implying a play on synonyms or
just simply stating: d'uh, i don't know what
that means? ah, a limitation on the vocabulary,
an atypical symptom of lawyers - when socrates attacked
eloquence per se, he also defeated himself
by ensuring law abided by the law of highest eloquence,
and the rabble got diddly-squat, his attack on rhetoricians
lost the prowess of attracting debased educators
with himself the most debased educator:
and instead attracted lawyers... thus the law of the eloquent,
rather than the rubric of the least eloquent...
lost an eye for an eye, lost a mouth with it too...
i rather be fed eloquence and education
and coarseness to equally educate
than be fed a justice fed by eloquence alone,
because if this is to be the equilibrating case,
then serving justice will just be a case of speaking
in a satin tongue of readied rhetoric
as justice so called,
and when speaking in a coarse tongue
no justice will be made applicable...
i rather be educated by someone in a coarse tongue
than be brought to justice by someone in an eloquent tongue,
i rather not be educated by someone in an eloquent tongue /
i rather be brought to justice by someone in a coarse tongue
(the mob),
at least the coarse tongue is well equipped to
address the many who require educating,
unlike the eloquent tongue equipped to
address itself and itself alone, rather than addressing
the jury who blindly pass judgement, because
the lawyer's tongue is not in the mouth of the defendant
but in the lawyer's mirror of social strata of respectability
appearing so guiding, kindly tying a bow-tie of applause.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
*tick all applicable
please use blue or black blood
when exercising choice
in the type of role applied for*
Liberation [✓]
Vindication [✓]
Resignation [✓]
Transformation [✓]
*do you recognise yourself
as belonging to a Demographic
Of Brotherhood.
Of Commonality
to other hurting spirits*
Hope without creases [ ]
Hope, in spite of bruising [✓]
Train without brakes [ ]
A tunnel bricked at each end [ ]
Forest fire as result of
volatile conditions
and negligent spark [✓]
*do you accept that the data you provide
not only reveals everything you would
sacrifice and be sacrificed for
it
also
counts
for
n· o· t· h· i· n· g*
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 6:32 AM UTC
Nowadays it’s so easy to communicate with people
Just one click and there you have it
No waiting is applicable
Easy to reach
One blink of an eye
Fast like a wind
Just like love
Touch the button
Press send
Cupid will deliver your answer
Break Up
Leave a message after the tone
Your heart is broken
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
In 1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue
1791 Virginia Ratifies Bill of Rights
They become the 1st 10 amendments of the U.S. Constitution
Applicable to me and you
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 2:34 AM UTC
*"Every inordinate cup is
unblessed and the ingredient is a devil."*
The sun has set and the switch between
lives is applicable.
We are all dead tonight. Frozen
in a hidden world far away from
innocence and frowning faces.
Far past the sun and far past
plastic cups and lost inhibitions,
lost in a torrent of ecstasy:
we transform into beasts.
Beyond this and so much more
Beyond undeserving smiles and lustful pursuits
Beyond "no regrets" and spilt drinks
And hollow laughter and moonlit faces
And spins and joy and misery and
And
and this, and so much more.
I will never grow old... I will never grow old.
*And let me the canakin clink
clink*
'Pandora left all but hope,
I watched the world unfold from out in a cage,
it was quite beautiful until I lived a life there.
The world I see is not the world I live.
Dare I to choose a life sanctity?
To repudiate the winelife and sit in silence, pure?
I will find pain in both worlds.
Might as well have fun in our misery.'
Jul 5, 2010
Jul 5, 2010 at 3:43 PM UTC
The last of the leaves blew off today.
But don't worry, they are biodegradable.
And they realized it was their time to go.
And they really did give us quite a show
Their sacrifice was appreciated by a few
And now they are given a mass burial
Their corpses lying on the sidewalk...
And I've realized that
The beauty of fall is prettier
When shared by two.
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
Get lost is the most
used word by bored
sisters and tired brothers who hear
it and heard that the herd
of curses from their sister's head
is going to vanish, then they would banish
themselves when the devilish
sister bark and mark
their mom's work.
They are troublesome they do say
but according to a brother's say
it means awesome.
To keep disturbing is going
to be enjoyable when they are able
to make it applicable
to ruin the rain
of pain and strain
and vain and lightning
the amazing and happy things.
But my sister says that like monkeys
we are useful keys to unlock the locks
of happiness and flocks
of interesting blocks of new worlds.
But you know when these things
go jammed like kettles steaming
and kittens calling,
their mind goes blind
like blinds of windows,
like the faces of widows.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 11:12 AM UTC
diamonds and navy strung together by a row of brass buttons trailing up your chest;
your flesh is the night sky,
and i...
have always been a clumsy astronomer.
tumbling through the footnotes of books i pretend to have read-
searching for applicable knowledge and definitions that at least begin to pay you homage.
blissful in the sun beams and sullen in sudden rain-storms...
though,
you glow,
regardless of the natural disaster trailing in the wake of jet-streams out your window.
you translate the smoke signals trailing from the tails of our cigarettes,
and the morse-code transcriptions of my off-beat heart.
such a beautiful transistor of the divine gift of speech.
such a handsome mystic.
make me magic-
paint me natural...
leave me stranded in your starlight.
a tidal metronome to my unsteady pulse,
composing arrhythmia's barefoot in the night.
tap-dance with me in the graves we're digging deeper with every passing instant.
in comparison,
this could be penned a bad decision,
but those seem to be the only kind that the creatively maladjusted are ever capable of making.
perhaps we're cliche...
but the only person i care to find in a crowd is you,
and you stick out like the sore arm of a spiraling universe.
pearls and coal grey strung together by a row of silver buttons trailing up your chest;
your flesh is the night sky,
and i...
have always been a clumsy astronomer.
let me study your pulse through a fogging telescopes lens.
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 2:21 AM UTC
kurwa? why did i include the word kurwa in the sentence? it's a conjunction: i / and.
sometimes you wonder why certain
consonants don't have applicable
diacritical marks...
for example the word: bydło /
cattle -
because that's what you say
of people who clearly, rather,
make language pristine when
doing ******** and sniffing up an ****
here... we find the b without the acute
stress.. bydło -
cattle, readied for the slaughterhouses;
nar kan haczyk na błazna!
idzie tuman! i zanim horongiew wron!
i wonder as to why they keep their
vocabulary freed from taboo and insistent on
herr censor -
oh right, 'cos it has to look
and sound "pretty", right?
**** 'em... i'll speak the worsened type
of peasant... i'll talk pheasant,
i'll talk peacock, and you do your little
**** should i care.
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 3:33 PM UTC
the jew in you,
something
you long suspected,
or long lamented.
too bad,
the absence of
this moniker if it
ain’t applicable directly
to your sorry ***
after all who doesn’t
want to be among the
ch-ch-chosen peeps?
this blessing
in disguise,
it’s very special
to be hated by
almost,
everyone.
hatred,,
the great equalizer,
highlighting your
choicest features
race, gender, roman nose,
etc., etc., etc.
but like the song said,
though somebody may
hate unlucky you,
everybody, no exceptions,
hates the jews.
everyone knows
the jews own the banks.
everybody hates the banks
who leave you on hold,
leaving you, wondering why,
they won’t give you back
at the ATM, the good money
you lent them,
so you must be
minimum 10%
shrewish (shhhh-jewish) or
whaat! why?
yup, your deposit is
a liability on their books,
(they owe it back to you)
so you too are
a moneylender,
congrats!
welcome to the club,
the club of being
a liability.
we jews travel
around the world,
chased out from
almost everywhere.
so we invented the
around-world-cruise,
and the world gave
us steerage class
to remind us,
even the jew in you,
that’s OUR special place.
postscript:
(All) Jewish Lives Matter!
Oy!
(don’t get me started...)
Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 12:32 PM UTC
(Before you read this, this is only applicable to my experience, I'm not judging you if this is still your life; it's written more because it was my life and I wasn't living.)
At the time I thought it helped me socialise,
now it’s no surprise I look through anti-social eyes;
supplied with a look over the shoulder guise.
Bored of chasing a broken prize, smoke n lies
I chose to thrive, pry open these permanently closing eyes.
It was the bane of my existence,
now my resistance is high instead of me.
I better be the best pedigree of I.
Instead of the guy flying with eyes far from wide
spying those that despise trying to get inside my mind,
to find they aren't real. Addicted no longer,
uplifted, higher than leaves can carry,
now you’re green with envy while I parry
back your attacks and crack on.
I blow-back your slow trap and reflect upon your affliction
I’m best without your friction on my lungs,
now I’m cutting you with the diction from my tongue,
no grinder. Now my mind’s up to speed,
no amphetamine, no dependency,
it certainly seems that I’m living better than I could ever dream.
I’m an evergreen standing steady for centuries.
At the time I thought it helped me socialise,
now it’s no surprise I look through anti-social eyes;
supplied with a look over the shoulder guise.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 5:50 AM UTC
Information
applicable to
any one subject
is called "knowledge,"
whereas
information
cross-applicable to
any number of subjects
is called "wisdom."
The difference
seems to me to be
but a matter of
liberating one's Mind
from functional fixation
and practicing the art of
creative contemplation;
to not fear the unknown
fighting it, running from it;
but to rather welcome it
as a teacher and a friend
and to allow it to noirish
One's innate curiosity.
T'is indeed not a path
for the faint of heart:
those who should dismiss it
and diminutize it
and demonize it
as "the Occult"
are, themselves, guilty
of occluding
such respendant and divine potential!
Darkness-
the unknown-
is just as sacred
as Light, itself,
for Yin
cannot sustain
without Yang.
Such is the Tao:
such is God.
Thus I revere it
and refer to it
as Taogod;
not to limit either,
but instead
to set both terms free!
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 3:24 PM UTC
You are so funny
So cute
Smart
Dependable
Trustworthy
Worthy
Am I worthy?
What about my humor?
My looks?
My brilliance?
My reliability?
My responsibility?
All the things that I see in you
That you can't notice in me
I wonder is you even looking
Because everyone else seem to realize
Maybe I'm too close to you
...and you're farsighted
I foreseen this
But the impression you gave me
I couldn't have backed down
Maybe there's someone standing behind me
And you are distracted
You could have told me along time ago that you were looking for the perfect person to suit you
And you didn't too much care to fit that persons life in return
Why do it **** you to say or do anything nice?
Oh I know
All of your energy is getting put to use someplace else
So when I come around you're already tired
Well I once was told
To only use someone who is useless
For Someone who is applicable
Either you leave them on the shelf
Or
You invest with all that you have left
Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 2:48 AM UTC
After three years, why am I still needing to make impressions? Behaviour alterations, manifesting myself to the person they want to see. Disregarding my character at the door, substituting it for something more - applicable, unnoticeable, unopinionated, mentally castrated because I can’t compete with that.
Introverted woven into the needlework of extroverts, camouflaging the thread, too frightened to be different, to be noticed, so you hide yourself within life’s tapestry. We are hung in different galleries, worlds apart, the north/south divide does it shrink with time? Does love conquer all? It seems such a foreign conquest, I lose myself on the battlefield of personality trying to evade fatality of character. But their numbers are too strong, the war is lasting too long, I can’t compete with that.
Eloquent hunters, fields and farms. Like the hare, the sense of inadequacy follows me down, but it’s through the rabbit hole where I lose control, fumbling for speech at the simplest conversation. My heart races, heat rising from my chest, pores palpitating so pools of sweat dampen my forehead, wishing I could retreat below, stay cool in the shadow, away from illicit bourgeois eyes that see through my proletariat alibi, praying she doesn’t cast me aside because I can’t compete with that.
This is the mental cross that I bare, does she really care? Our relationship is ours not theirs, I need to lay aside my prejudice of the class divide, because in truth the weight of this cross isn’t mine but shared, and it’s holding us back, directing us off the beaten track because love isn’t a competition, but a joint expedition. Alice and I conquering together, and I can compete with that. Forever.
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 10:34 AM UTC