Egg on my face again, and I would have guessed that by now I wouldn’t mind.
But when you believe in the lie you live reality is never kind.
Cut it clean or it’ll never mend, this isn’t a wound time can bind.
Swallow your tears then… happiness isn’t yours to find.
The loop was endless perfection, no beginning, no end. It just was. No one questioned it anymore. No one kept count of the days, weeks, or years just the minutes. Just the long seemingly endless seconds.
Those we kept.
While it was pointless that everyone still had a clock even if they didn’t have a calendar. It was interesting to think back to the moment when the days, already so blurred and hazy, went away. But moments were all that was left. Of course we all remembered the scourge and the riots. The starting point, however, had faded into the loop when it got worse not better.
What power lies in a date that doesn’t in a moment? When we lost the historians to current events no one even bothered asking that hard question. Who had the time? We were busy fighting for each moment holding on by our fingernails daring the sunrise to come.
And it isn’t over. And the rule of the loop is, it doesn’t end. But I’ve been keeping track and hoarding time.
The loop wasn’t movement, that was the lie, and it will work till someone looks up and rubs the blinders from their eyes. It only survives if we stop looking.
So now it’s time to put the x-ray specs on. To cut out the rot and flatten the curve.
Together we can break this wheel and finally feel the winds of progress upon our brow.
The truth is I would rather not.
I would rather not be the maid, the butler, and the bank.
I would rather not be the difference between swam or sank.
I would rather not be the cure if it means I must have been the cause.
I would rather not be the measure of motion against your pause.
I would rather shine without worry of your tarnish.
I would rather act with impunity and without carnage.
I would rather be who I am without censor.
I would rather live my life without wanting more.
So the lie is I alway will.
Sometimes I lie. Little white lies which can never actually hurt anyone, I tell myself. This however begs another question. Why lie? If the non truth is so insubstantial that it will A) go unnoticed and B) make no difference then…why not the truth? Honestly, it is because I can, and the slight power buzz over shadows any fear of getting caught.
By Corey-Grandy all rights to owner
Is it so bad to wish you were a million miles from where you are?
To want to be so far from everything that no part of who you are or were would matter.
To be free from you own self inflicted version of who you should be.
Because if I truly think about who it is that I’ve become the sadness in me would overwhelm any chance of redemption.
What I want, more than to find myself inexplicably elsewhere and finally able to try again, is romance. Silly I know, but there it is.
I want to tingle at his touch, my heart to flutter when he says my name, and to burn with desire when he isn’t near.
That, however, is not my reality.
When his hand caresses me I feel nothing but agitation, and a slight ticklish sensation.
His kisses upon my lips leave me with naught but an urge to wipe the wetness away.
When I should be breathless and at the edge of my crescendo, I find myself fully aware and impatient.
I am very conscious that this makes me, at the very least, different.
So I immerse myself in books, movies, work. Anything that allows me to not fixate on the wrong that reside within me.
So I appear normal in my want for things to be other, but my dreams betray me.
Dreams where I awake panting with pleasure and squirming against a remembered touch.
Where a truly interested stranger’s kiss leaves me wanting so much more.
So I wait and watch for my chance to be brave, selfish, and whole; with my fingers crossed that when that moment comes I do not falter.
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