Realisticness

Memories on bended knee. 

Remarkable discoveries of a love I felt needed me. Through the thickets of time bought by borrowed feelings. Unbeknownst to the hearts of many who thought everything was progressing swimmingly. 

What started off as a beautiful poem, bloomed into countless I love yous and what followed was the construction of my many flawed views. To easy to confuse the line between love and lust, as if man had but to simply choose his feign, for she marked a trend that no women could change. 

She represents the depths of abuse, a portrait documenting a pattern of truth. That love is but a ruse blinding the eyes and clouding the mind. Sacrificing logic and reason for buttered lies and thieving. 

One loses their fight for existing,  to forever be bound by societies administered doctrine. Fishing in a pond of followers and cowards, aimlessly avoiding interaction to avoid confrontation. 

Imaging these ideals in front, behind, and around all sides of one's history. Blistering and festering enigmas of reality. Invoking and anointing for God's assistance persistently. 

"I Love You" belts off the tongue like a rehearsed performance, but we tolerate disappointment in abundance. Fear grips the unknown,  and as I imagine life without what I've conversed about, I'm convinced it's dependent on those bold enough to drudge through what it surmounts.