"Today's the day I walk away" I tell myself as I drive to work.
"Let it be over, and be happy" I repeat to myself.

I say these things to convince myself not to think of her, so i dont spend every waking second checking my phone for a lousy text from her, like It would be my honor to receive a reply.

"**** um, I dont care, I am happy" as I get half way though my depressing work day.

No text, still. It's about 30 minutes to punch out and im finally over her, iv accepted her not responding and by this time im so ****** that if she did respond, I wont even bother with it.

            PUNCH

I walk out the door to my car

vib vib  vib vib
             Check
"hey wanna come over?"

And like the ******* I am, I don't even think twice about it, I rush home to change, I rush over to see her.

Shes like my drug dealer, she knows how to cheer me up with any one of her moods as if they were a drug.

Problem is, after I leave I want more and more, and become more disappointed than I was before.

"Please just let it be over..." as I drive home to collect my thoughts and depression sinks in more. God im too stubborn to walk away.

How long does it take to get over lost loves. Books and sunshine can’t fuel my bonfires celebrating life is but a dream my parties are so outdated I don’t know how my soul speaks anymore. Run on sentences because my brain can’t comprehend grammar anymore it’s just word ***** and love ticks trying to spit out energy at any awkward chance it gets. Will writing be the same I plead my soul to gain its old memories through feel and spontaneity. I learn to love again is it really all through creating I pick my scabs my nicknames by what I seem are better days before an abusive heartbreak I never truly know what is at stake when I put my heart into beings never truly seeing what they’re meaning behind their lies and deceiving I always see the best despite the feelings. My visions always so temporary never thinking what I could truly accomplish is what I want to do. What I want to be. How loud I might scream or how tired I might be but how high I climb over all simple yet complicated atrocities. I just want my soul to gleam I just want to feel so clean I just want to get over all these things that are holding me. I keep hitching thoughts of friends loving me trying to abide by social standards taught to keep me balanced keep me holy.
Keep thinking about human trolls just stagnant in feeling during purrs of not speaking just vibrations under being. Vibes push out dark thoughts yet still no words come out I feel invisible isolated by myself reality is loneliness

Prolog:
Foreplay opens with an aphrodisiac dubbed the mind
caressing private chambers with passion, over time
words stimulating nerve-endings for the ideal tease
like the skin dripping of honey from the nectar of bees
exploiting the fragrances of scented oils and balms
or maybe vib’ing lyrics inducing a seductive calm
compelling forces bombard the intellectual’s sanity
as the proximity of the blackhole distorts humanity

Love’s Play:
Costars entwine heated bodies for love’s embrace
as moments become endless as vectors of subspace
sporadic movements take the form of blissful spasms
while the players combine to mold a single plasm
ringing chimes fulfill the awareness with sensations
too diverse to classify for logical deliberations
yet finally, the mountaintop of cliffs can be reached
where there is no retreat and no return from its breach

Epilog:
Aftermath closes basking from the physical exertion
as two kindred spirits epitomize timeless insertion
gazing deeply into the abyss of the partner’s soul
only to find comfort and compassion ruling the role
can this be the earthly heaven that one truly beholds
written in the historic words as the heavens foretold
feelings ignite once again burning deeply within
opening yet another intriguing act, one must attend.

i like to be wise with my beautiful brown eyes
my thick thighs and my voluptuous size
fruit flies sticking to me cause i'm so sweet
i make the beats but dont eat that red meat
sensitive but calm and super duper collected
will get you wrapped around my finger, kid
pinky promises is how i keep it real
drinkin' tall boys, always breakin' the seal
addicted to my flavor, youll be on dis fashionistaquena
part puerto rican, but got money but not enough lend ya
crowds call my name and it keeps on echoin'
famous like the amos cookies, keep my green in a tin
i'm so frickin' visual, ROYGBIV colors make me trip all day
so vib-rant, i spy a red ant and rainbows are the color "gay"
lets collaborate, take your hands & drop all the hate, i just ate...
chips and dip, my lip ring fell out so i put in a paperclip
bobbypin in my hair, my lion locks
i'm like uffie "i pop the glocks"

i'm spacey i'm astral out of my body
out of my mind unable to conn
ect to this world and it's sys
tems begging the cosmos
to restore within me a fir
e for life a hunger for other hu
man beings i often wonder abo
ut the urge to touch some
one tenderly or my lack thereof
i am unable to connect to this
world and it's systems it's worth
less paper everyone mani
festing their biological agen
das when i'm not looking mine
leaks out of my pores like sweat
i can't help but see through th
eir motive charged words but
you have potential i want your
soul not your flesh i want to vib
rate in an alternate reality with
you i want to die and be reborn
with you i wanna chew a hole
through the wall of the ameri
can psychosis rat race for
you i am awake shak
ing your body i am
unable to connect
to this world
and it's
systems

I can't comprehend death. I couldn't comprehend death even when death date questions had a answer. I couldn't comprehend death even when the signs are flashing like the last numbers on a shot clock expiring. I couldn't comprehend death even when it was in my mailbox. Like I had the option to accept it. Like I had the option to return it. I wish death was like a letter that I could tell the mailman wrong city, wrong address, wrong recipient. Just wrong. I wish death didn't have a spam folder. Collecting names of people I didn't know until it's gets a name marked as important in my email of life. Death feels like a penaltys not called, like how dare you resume life without everyone in the room, how dare you eat food without saying grace. Death feels like a slap from a friend. Never expected, unguarded, not protected, and reality never the same. I wish death died. I wish death was like a Timmy Turner episode, like at the end if the episode everything will go back to normal. Instead death likes to play deception. Likes to replace the old with the new and tell you nothing has changed. Like my McDonald's down the street always had a kiosk. Like gas prices has always been 3 dollars. Like aunt vib was always light skin. I wish i never have to wait for the next backstabber, the next email, the next letter. I wish death was dead.