you know, I’ve never been a morning person.
the idea of light streaming through curtains after so much black is daunting.
daylight has always been abrasive, at best.
most days I lay motionless while my eyes adjust.
In those little bits of time, I flood myself with motivation.
normally, I answer a serious of self inflicted questions.
“What do I live for?
What is my purpose?
Why even bother with rising another day?”
it’s the curiosity of those miserable moments that led me to the truths of my existence.
I realized my personal truth ended up being something altogether selfish and altruistic..
I live for love.
The love of myself, the love of life, the love of people and the world; the whole of it.
these days when my eyes have finally adjusted and my brain can process sight..
I look over to my left and nudge your side.
I smile because when you’re here,
all it takes is your exasperated sigh
and I am ready.
– sc
Funny I have been thinking of writing a poem about how I cant sleep without her by my side, waking up for me is easy. Going to sleep is hard.
Lovelly poem.
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That’s one beautiful poem.
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This is truth.
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Awesome. Those little questions one self-creates, what I would call the beginning the ‘daily minor self-torture routine.’ The way things turn around at the end caught me off guard, in a good way, expecting the poem to just delve (wallow, as I tend to do) in those questions. Thanks.
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Very good! Exasperated sigh, that would do it.
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I enjoyed this poem sounds a lot like myself and I can definitely relate.
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excellent sexual textures
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