herlucidlife

Tucked away in my mind, every now and then you’d come around the corner. Often wondering why you kept coming up, why I felt a mellowness in your memory that’s kept for years. Snuck off to your doorstep in the polite way a lady summons her caller. Gentle tenderness, loving from the soul going home had felt aromatic. Stuck in my nostrils, reminiscing down the highway to the homestead. Attachment complications have set in, my eyes went to well with water, not wanting to vanish so soon, “why am I so emotional over you?”

Came back from the day feeling different, feeling loved, feeling unweighted. The mind is funny already thinking about forever, bond disorderliness I shouldn’t be hooked. I’m nervous to be vulnerable, beginning to feel embarrassed of the public perception. I could say all these lovey dovey things though I’m not sure I believe any. I look fickle to myself, as if I’m just trying to attach to the next warm body I feel comfortable with. Affection deprived I’m scared to say that I just didn’t want that affection from you. I’ve been scared to say that just maybe I wasn’t that attracted and it lasted longer than needed and I tried to be available but truely, the moment the doorway was cleared ink was bled into paper though like no other, it’ll never be as crucial again. 

Scared to say that your position has been switched to general with three stars for distinct. I no longer look to make you significantly special in my life. I gain ease and peace knowing that factoring you in is in the past. Attempting to be friendly in the midst of being more than wedded in the past. Time has ticked on, emotions have switched and honestly you trying to put on my back the responsibility of your flesh and watchful eye, I don’t want that I told you. Please stop giving it to me.

When so much of yourself is given away it begins to feel as though the magic of what is possessed begins to lack. Sentiments have been spewing in all directions recklessly, I’m not sure if I should take heed to the passion or let them produce at will the ruckus that is my being. Fast mover often in the direction of hands that have bruises too. Why do your scars look appetizing in the way that you’ve always been in my corner? Native to the place that belongs so close to me it’s home. I’m not interpreting the reason for you being here now or even then, not questioning the blessing you’ll do. 

Vulnerable, double edged with strength and weakness, companionship in the storm yet detrimental to self well being when misused. Wanting to feel every and nothing at all, wanting to be left and needed, water flowed spontaneously at will releasing pent up energy. Sometimes feeling lonely doesn’t feel lonely, sometimes it just feels like breathing in my house all day on an off day with no call, but called no one from lack of that certain attention. Stuck.