My poetry has crystallized the exquisite thoughts of a spiritual man who searches for the kindled flame that was douse for a year, and seems to twinkle only on lonely nights I spend reciting my past mistakes, wishing that I could correct those imperfections
See, I know that my inability to really relate to the struggles of a woman have reflected through my illusion to be masculine, but shit I’m a Pisces “I’m already indecisive.”
That’s why I worded this precisely to let you know that every apology is genuinely a part of me coping a plea in hopes that we can resolve my pass problems.
See I attempt to visually show you how my soul feels.
I would draw yesterday with the details of the perfect moments we steal.
Coating your canvas with the blues, reds, and violets we wanted.
Wanting to taste the picture I’ve created daunts me.
For minutes, hours, and days I would pace it, at times even pray over it and dream of grabbing the warmth of your insides.
In the oceans of your soul my spirits could capsize and I would know that everything is alright.
My canvas has displayed a woman who has become worthy of being sacred.
The worlds could have collided and we are the only ones to make it.
Now you and I are alone, which is perfect