• Eye

    by  • June 26, 2015 • Waxing Poetic • 0 Comments

    The blows soften as life keeps happening unsure what or who is responsible

    it still gets so hot, I have this person in my life that had this quality that was a blessing and a gift

    I felt valued, and understood

    Then this thing happened in their life and things kind of unraveled NO they did

    and now the blessing is mostly given to them and myself by me

    It’s not impossible like it once was for me to do for myself (not that I’ve ever been made aware) never a

    second thought to do for others, more so just really getting it, getting what the infant in us all needs.

    It justs words I am unable to make solid

    I don’t wish or hope much these days

    as I’ve grown to learn, one can swallow spoonfuls of shit (I don’t mean shit in it”s simplest form, or what

    we think when we say “what a shit day”)

    I mean the bricks of life an living (blocks)

    I haven’t been a runaway / giver-uper in a long time.

    How do you know that you know?

    Honestly nothing is set in stone

    you think this is one of those major moments

    I can only speak for myself when I say this

    I don’t have one fucking clue

    there is a vision and it’s always interchanging

    I love you those are words just words

    It be nice if challenging; me, my words, thoughts, feelings, and views (so on) would stop as I am not proving anything except for myself and our future

    just come back t o your head where we will be blessed

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