I come to spike as I write….
Like a thief in the night,
Validating synonyms for greatness as I strive for the aforementioned.
We only wanna be loved for longer than it takes to read and weep what my soul has amassed all week.
Tears journey like distraught soldiers facing the court martial, dishonorable mountainous climbs down cheeks.
I repeat, someone loves as trauma teams with the traumatic to form ambition from anguish leaps to death off chins splattering lost love all over the unknown abyss aka concrete.
“I wanna be loved, not for who you think I am….”
Love me for me please do, don’t judge my insecurities in your secure state, over your kobe steaks and cellar aged reds. Nodding at my insufficient with bobble-head confirmations that my humble salutations vanish beyond your grimaced facade… motherfu***** fluctuations¡