“She Walks Alone.”

Never a moment duller than this.
She’s out and about and her plan is to kiss the first charming suitor with skills to recruit her.
Her heart is the bullseye and he’s a sharpshooter.

But I’m thinking thoughts, the ones reasonably stated.
That conjur up sadness and keep me frustrated.
I want her to be here, to listen and show me outside of the worries without sugar coating.

My hearts gonna burn, gonna pop, gonna sizzle.
I leave it exposed and it always delivers the good with the wretched and sick with the normal.
I can’t feel my feelings, so I won’t feel my sorrow.

The plentiful longings, the yearns and the achings are hers for the owning, they’re hers for the taking.
Wallowed abysmal with thoughts catacklysmal.
Please reach for me, preach to me
Breach the black dismal.

Her world condescends the transcendent uprising.
She’s minutes away yet I’m here and I’m writhing.
Can’t stay in the past or reside in the future.
I tumble and stumble in my present stupor.

Down here on my knees with the keys to her heart.
Does she know I exist? Let’s go back to the start.
To revive it again, we can thrive in the end.
Cuz we lived and we died, hand in hand we ascend.


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