Three Way Street

My homemade monster sleeps in my room, under my bed and in it and above it all at once. She tells me: deeper, faster, but not too much. I cannot answer her or prepare myself for her because when daylight rises and I am very far from my bed- I forget. She hates me for that, I know. My darling wants only to unleash me. She wants to cry all the doubt into a whirlwind of confidence. But, I forget her and she does not forgive.

                                                                                          ~
This isn’t the same as last time. I really felt everything so fully. I see all of my affections as lust and all my passions as flimsy aspirations. I am limited because I allowed myself to live my dreams under the idea of “I cannot change my mind!” Changing you mind means making a mistake. It’s an error. You were previously mistaken - wrong!- and now you have to change because you didn’t think ahead. What am I but a multitude of affirmation and a pithy state of self-deprecation. I cannot slow down because the water at my feet will reach my neck. I do no know how to swim. Gotta go fast.
                                                                                          ~
I am the epitome of death but life stretches herself out before me bare,sun kissed, bright, and ready. I cannot dare to let my eyes fall on her figure. I feel like I am disrespecting her. But she wants to throw herself at me- she wants me to make all the decisions. It’s all too important and I feel so rushed. How do I treasure her existence if I am forced and burning?

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