[a poem]
Whatever we are, we make sense.
I want us to match.
To be a match.
To spark.
To spark without error.
A perfectionist never rests.
We sleep in the same bed when ties no longer bind.
As the knot loosens, we relax.
Yet untied combat boots is a trap.
Cleanliness is divine insecurity.
I let my self go with you.
I let myself go with you.
For every reason not to trust me, I reflect it on you.
We could easily get along.
But we don't know each other.
Madonna's words of Austin ring bigger in the inner city.
My pain-induced racism has a bitter aftertaste, as I kiss you deeper than the racism pain-induced.
You were my influence before I met you.
You met I before influence could see.
I am sorry for my passively barbaric nature.
You are a smooth criminal.
I already said I don't want to be a victim.
What can Pearl Harbor say to Hiroshima?
The very brilliance that explained the beginning developed the end.
Just stand next to me in American Gothic.
Allow me to cause the grin of your Mona Lisa.
I have fallen so many times, I am paralyzed.
See?
So allow me time to heal and forgive myself for all I have to give...
...of myself...
...to keep you.
[that, and this]
[everyday, I get accused...]
Happy Sunday, StarChasers.
~phenomenal~
