Can you find me in the dark —
Fitted among the many souls that are strewn across your path?
Will you recognise my voice?
The echo of which bleeds with the agony of time long past.
They say we are bound but I wonder at times if it’s just a fated lie,
One that was created to make us feel like maybe there’s more to this.
Am I waiting on a dream that will never come?
Maybe this is the dream.
Who says dreams have to be some grand thing —
Something that will touch a part of you that’s hidden and precious?
This could be it.
This could be all there is.
And all we have to do is create what we want like in our fantastical dreams at night —
When we put together fantasies and nightmares borne of our subconscious selves.
Still, what’s life without a little hope, a little mystique?
As a creator of this reality, maybe I will bring you to life,
Then turn it into something fatebound and magical,
Because, why not make things a bit more interesting?
Either way, fate or dreamscape, I’m here.
I will be here…
Surrounded by shadows.
Patiently waiting for you to recognise my light.
Let’s connect. Let me feel and taste you while we figure this thing out. Let me know the insides of your mind while I fantasize about the possibilities of us. Let me go out on a limb and just take advantage of your sexual drive. What’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with wanting something for this moment – this singular time and just enjoying it? Why make it complicated? Why not take chances and go by the thrills and the pulls of our inner selves? Isn’t that the beauty of this? Isn’t all that we want just a few open touches away from this? I want you to open me up. Tear me apart and invade my comfort space. I want to feel you rippling through my mind as my days take pace. I want you to teach me to use my mind like a tongue. This tool that will lick every inch of you and enjoy the sensations that it pulls. I’ll teach you more. I’ll teach you how to revere my body like a shrine. I’ll teach you to respect every crevice that’s mine. Oh, you’ll like it. You’ll love every minute of it. And you’ll crave… We’ll both crave. And that’s the beauty of it. This urge, this thing that drives us to be our unfathomed selves, Damn… If only. If only we could connect. If only we could feel and taste each other while we figure things out. If only we could let each other get to know the insides of our minds and enjoy fantasizing about the possibilities of us. If only we could go out on a limb and just enjoy our sexual drives… What’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with that?!
I have a curious relationship with my ego. We are not friends, but where ever I go she goes. At times we fight like sisters – with attacks so low the sting burns. Sometimes I sit and watch her play. Other times she destroys something and I take the blame. After all, what can I do? My ego is always there – a part of me yet completely separate. If unleashed destruction is in her wake, Am I not the one who should have taken a break? My ego and I have a strenuous relationship. We fight with each other, we laugh, we love together, And sometimes we simply exist. Take heed though and don’t trust your ego, I never do mine. The secret is to merely listen, observe, and untwine.