"Outlook from the Train station"
Into the void which pulls me I feel detached from it all. On paper before thoughts escape I write to tell you. Before parts resupply an empty vessel. With numbing cheeks I love you. To no one I love you. An image I create I love you. The walls weaken and reveal my dearest secrets before anyone else let my feelings be known. Voiced loudly and bowing for the grand performance. If it is not there it will one day reach you on the way home. At dawn everything will reset I’ll be someone who hides in shame. In repressed thoughts to one who the subconscious directs I love you still. In letters soaked with liquor the truth is clearly told. I always have, probably more.
"Now"
If you could believe me now, while I'm like this you'll know my true intentions. This state could be the "place" I've wanted to talk with you. It all shall flow, falling deeper pulling forth truth. Released like drool from under the tongue, slipping threw lips. My voice will be louder than a whisper. At the end I'll run home and dive face first into a pillow. Somehow its more than my cheeks that feel warm and rosy red.
"Unsatisfying Sample"
Prototypes of a women who I could love, among the daydreams that collide with the daily routine. It felt as if they were real. Lingering on the edge of reality ideas wait for thoughts to find them. I mark the calendar and write a summary, today was unsuccessful carrying on like the rest. Add it among the pile and notes to reflect the pros and cons in a blog. This strategy didn’t work out, no one thought this was genuine, or add tweaks to this step. Yes! it seems very analytical and experimenting with each new concept. I thought back judged myself to people of the past and question what I’ve been doing all this time. I remembered someone’s words and believed myself I wish it were possible. I too, hypothetically would rather leave a woman when we still feel passion for one another. At which end to were I know I could no longer please her. For us to leave when our prime has yet to expire than drag an old corpse. Preserve whatever is left and depart knowing we did our best. Don’t feel remorse former courtesan, its just that our affair did not sustain us until death. Somehow along the way we discovered we were incompatible and from here we’ll reach out to others. We could leave our hearts burning with passion and not jilted in the hands of another. In another way, man and woman do not claim the other yet are complete strangers who board a public bus to their separate destinations. I would glance outside the window and off the glass in my peripheral vision she sits. Because she is here I thought the Sun would set an hour earlier and take back more warmth. Do not fear I’m not the aggressive type, sometimes it is my weakness but I’m waiting for something to hit me. Is it a word, catchy phrases, action, thought, push, or resolution? I think my tongue has gone dry and can no longer speed up her breathing so now my eyes have taken its luster. I laugh about my shortcomings as the bus detours from its original route. I give up my masculine facade and procrastination kills the moment of possibility. These thoughts outline an image, its not whole nor am I.
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