Rediscover

What are you saying,
When you say this is forever,
Truly...
What are you wanting in that single effort
Of wishful fulfillment.
Truly,
You cannot be so sure
Of a choice in which the outcome is far from secure.

Now tell me,
How you  intend to safeguard this love... forever.
Ensure,
How thoroughly such thoughts have been reviewed,
And what you plan to do, if one day,
The promise of forever,
Suddenly seems harder to produce.

            Quite simply,
It is not wise to accumulate immense hope for the unknown.
Many have endured suffering over hope ill-spent.
Suppressed by the very heartache they inflicted
Upon themselves,
Despite having had complete control all along
Over the amount of tears fallen,
Over the hours of sleep forgotten,
Over the depth to which you've sunken...

It is merely
Our visceral curse.
A condition,
Which, slowly,
Reverses with time.
And yet still,
We remain sworn to it
Like the deepest devotion.
Strikingly sobered,
At the mere mention of
Senses ceasing.

But if this forever,
Is a promise you'd be willing to sacrifice for,
Than who am I
To deny such a bold attempt,
Of endless rediscovering...
In all your wonder.
I am yours without hesitation,

Question no longer.

Gaze

Phasing in and out,
Swaying in sync with the rhythms
Surrounding,
Altering perspective,
Diminishing anxiety...
Allowing the next chapter to commence.

The moment you begin to take negative emissions personally,
Is the moment you may have gone too far.
Though our experiences have been separate,
It does not make us different,
But merely,
Members of consent to a game we all know too well,
At least now we may begin
To adequately categorize,
The truth from the deceit.

Finding solace in the silence,
Is greatly underestimated.

The only way out,
Is through the eyes of another.
For how can you have any realizations,
Without ever having stepped outside the comforting skin of the body,
An almost ideal seclusion,
Until your own thoughts begin to haunt your insides.

Too emotional,
The she-creature,
Remaining too misinterpreted,
Momentary self-loathing is the culprit.

The recipe for shame has been perfected here.
              Within... 
Sometimes,
For motivations entirely assumed and ill-reasoned.

Simply take caution,
Before becoming overtaken.
Feel the imbalance with some degree of limitation,
For all other prideful options,
Result in irrational numbness,
Or a series of relentless tirades,
Each speech new,
Yet similar to the preceding.

How can one change,
Without first,
Challenging the act of thinking?