i know where i belong. the problem is, no one believes me. because very few, can actually see me bound and tied to the beautiful is the only way i can ever, do feel free each broke the mold and then shattered it again in the allowance of admire, love struck awe, there's no end as if this, somehow just utterly themselves is exact, the ingredients to be destined a life called "sent straight to hell" not for any sin, extraordinary except for not being anything ordinary as in "like all the rest" whats that? an actual heart, throbbing soul, in the chest? please then, fuck them twice, and nice, once more amongst avenues and alleyways all the schemers and whores all the petty and pretty all the upright shallow and the downright shitty in the sunlight, hiding in the shadows we're sitting waiting, wandering feeling, thinking, pondering what exactly, and why are we here? somehow, the answer, coming through, not quite clear so then bound to them is my only escape from the eternal wound, scar intense, the isolative, disconnected shame state like lovers and gods goddesses from another time, place fate lost to me, location, direction, exact so comes, lost, to be just a matter of fact but not when I'm tied, bound lost in the love that is the heaven of them it's not a matter of time it's just a matter of when i, be allowed somewhere else, can i be me? the closest i have come yes, in and with them, bound, real love, light, heart soul set free bowen hart roselli 2 july 2020 ringwald love
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the realm of the poetic.
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January 2021
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