Darene Winey , ¢ ¢ WW Fic. 67 fear of this and fear of that... a perpetuating fear of standing in front of the parade of treats and my quarter a pale slug and shy of real currency this daily weekly monthly lunacy i want iwant iwant those floating cheese sandwiches, never those surprise filled donuts and why the hell not those donuts? or the perfectly shaped butter tarts, the myriad of sodas which is which a processed cheese ego, a perfectly shaped relationship, the surprise filled self esteem, the myriad realities? i hang on and on and on and on oh but truly darling dearie my life is a scant askance ooie i disapprove, yes but there is alot to share and not all of it necessarily anger so much anger and suspicion that cripples me yet for all of my desire to accept so then who shall i accept first? is it a lover? a creature to sweep me away and under the carpet aided guided by my own need to forsake myself and responsibility for my sex and life as the powerful individual i feel trapped deep in this abyss of my belly screwed in so deep through the button navel gripping the spine like arthritis.... or god could it be alover? someone to sweep me away with passionate lips and thrust to cram me in between their first chakra and the neckbending wall while i surrender my god given precious treasure and tummy tunnel knowing deep within the sou) of my imagination that as i cry fuck me i think to myself sheesh i am fucked oh am i ever fucked. well honestly speaking i’ve been told a million things, and none have i ever doubted as i love you why? i wonder why? as though i don’t know i walk the proverbial finely linely my strength of will and peace of mind that act as ballast against the ingrained and familial and societal skeleton whose gravitational pull rivals that of the blackest hole it can suck me suck me right fucking dry man if i cease to pay attention or pay to much attention for that matter, my being clenches like a baby’s fist and there’s no love that can surpass my own self denial what lover i need? oh one ican belittle find fault with despair over, deny deny deny the right to be themself as easily and flippantly however savagely ideny myself. yeah right i say where o where can this whole thing go but deeper and deeper into the mire of human evil. my lover must be myself and this can sometimes seem such a far cry to teach myself to love what better laboratory than within the realm of myself. michele philp A sky filled with red stars : Sed Mine Words ) T ar Cre HAACOW) Stii slur 2 gant the myny Swelling my mind My blue Head swollen My eyes wet Empty dry les EA Blind those Lips that bleed Mine words with colour far So still gla at Still with you. 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