Ps
P.S.
Behind this pen there's a hand,
And behind that hand is a man,
body, heart, mind, and soul
Emotions come pouring out filling oceans up with feelings
Flooding these pages with running ink
I'd be lying if I said I didn't fear things,
But to know fear helps me discern between the unclear, the unknown, and what will remain unchanged
I'm feeling you, not literally but literately feeling you, though now as it has always been, distance is resistance.
However, resistance creates friction, friction causes heat, heat creates a flame, and with a little fuel, like written words on a piece of paper, the flame can start a fire and set someone's whole world ablaze.
Does that mean I'm burning for you?
Filled with unbridled desire?
Funny how the world of words works,
It's like a poetic ring of fire...
It burns, but the heat is a welcome break from the cold, thin ice that I usually skate upon.
I haven't smiled a smile this big in awhile though. I haven't been consumed by the idea of a sweet dream turned reality since the life that I created.
My father once said son,
The sun isn't the only light you'll find in life, light has more than one source. Of course I didn't understand back then, in fact when I think back his slurred words rarely ever made sense. But through the alcohol induced confusion I managed to find a conclusion, and that was to never be fooled by what I long for when presented in the form of illusions, so what I'm reading I must be seeing, and if I see it then it must be real. Right? Left.... With the question at hand. If your hand was the question, I'd hold it. Would that be a good enough answer?
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