Let me let this go.

Let me let this go.

This longingness to be in the arms of someone I do not know. 

The cravings to be entrenched in the life of someone I have yet to understand.

Let me let this go. 

Oftentimes I feel as though I am missing out on a life that is not my own. 

How selfish of me.

To disrupt the dream of a love of mine. 

Your dream is as precious as your heart.

My wounds do not get to haunt our journey. 

May that it be an our. 

I miss you.

Is that so wrong?

I see me miss you.

Is that so bad?

I feel me miss you.

It’s intoxicating. 

You are intoxicating. 

The smell of you.

The charm of you.

Everything about you has my heart spinning.

Like a lighthouse beacon within a foggy mist.

Shining light from within the shadows. 

Standing still 

ever so tall 

ever so changing

I close my eyes to picture you and all I see is color. 

Rainbows of light beams dancing in circles. 

An array of clarity. 

Iridescently pulsating beneath my eyelids.

I am enchanted by the energy you breathe within your dream.

It’s not mine to hold. 

It’s not mine to have. 

It’s not mine. 

But yet, I see it.

So clearly. 

You. 

Let me let this go.

The idea of you.

The desire of you. 

The wanting of you in every breath that I breathe.

Let me let this go. 

I am terrified of the path we walk together.

For it is one of broken hearts and treacherous mistakes.

It is one of yin & yang.

Of balance.

Of shadows, light, and stars. 

I search for you in all the wrongdoings of my past lives.

Attempting to find the fault within our connection.

Shaming the craving of your lips against mine. 

When our eyes met,

I knew. 

It felt like home. 

You feel like home. 

I’ve spent so much time running away 

From home. 

I’ve found you. 

As I once did before.

We come from separate worlds.

Connected together by heartstrings and silhouettes. 

Posing for the eyes that gaze beyond the light into the darkness of what we wish for most. 

I laid with you. 

Gentle placing my hand on your chest.

Your embrace felt like the soft love I have craved since birth. 

Gentle love, from a gentle man. 

You are not mine to own.

I do not wish to long for love.

Yet, in the darkness of a morning in feelings, I do miss you. 

The idea of you.

A healthier version of you.

One that I did not meet.

For the one I met lives in the shadows.

The abyss. 

The underworld. 

Have I met the man who knows the story?

Have I met the woman who stands in her truth?

Has she been stolen by a heart who’s depth lives so vastly it turns the mood into cosmic dust?

I prefer to orgasm to cosmic energy. 

Your interest in mine feels fading.

Or so I feel.

In truth, I do not know.

Nor do I wish to know.

I’d rather live and find out along the way. 

I’d rather a part of me die, when I understand rebirth follows by day. 

Healing from sickness is a form of expansion. 

Healing from you is a form of ascension. 

Connecting with me is a form of awakening. 

I feel myself not wanting to move forward quite yet. 

Marinating in what was. 

Melting into the moment. 

You showed me an entirely different reality than what I am currently living. 

Call it the underworld. 

You, my friend, have a big personality. 

I am not entirely sure how I feel. 

Our stories with sexuality makes us less pure. 

A hidden fantasy of darkness. 

Light beings surrounded by shadows.

Addiction. 

Self betrayal. 

I hate to write the words of my truth. 

You did such a good job of being sweet until we had our moment. 

Then I can’t help but feel the shift. 

We barely did anything. 

We weren’t supposed to do anything. 

I can’t help but feel doubt in my mind for what your true intentions are. 

I have to let you go. 

I do not believe you wish to commit to a journey with another. 

You said it, I said it. 

A form of self betrayal is knowing that commitment is not something we can do outside of our own self. 

You are the man who takes me deep into the underworld and cares for me the entire time. 

Your ego makes you feel like a King. 

Your soul screams for truth. 

I really don't know if i can see you again after witnessing all of you.

Why is that so difficult for me to process?

I can't quite feel who you are. 

He is going to break my heart with his truth. 

I need to take a break from him.

From all of it. 

The more I go down this rabbit hole of darkness the harder it will be to climb out. 

He fears being scared.

Because right now I too feel scared. 

He fears being wrong.

Because right now I too feel scared of being wrong.

Having a misinterpretation.

Seeing someone, not for who they are, but who they portray themselves to be. 

Time will tell. 

Brace yourself for the changes happening in life. 

We are on the way up. 

Understanding the power we hold as a woman who says no. 

I feel so dark sliding away from you.

I can’t move in a sea of misery. 

Slowly gripping for the pain and agony of something that will never be.

Time for healing.

Time for the process. 

Time for rebirth.

I kissed your wings goodbye.

As a tribute to let you fly. 

Ode to the heartbreak of two lovers who were always meant to meet. 

Awakenness inside.

the light of eyes as they do greet.

Carrying on the legacy of power meeting power.

In different shapes and forms.

One from fear 

one from love.

Eternity of scorn. 

I hated how you kicked me out after we were intimate with each other's bodies.

Rude.

You told me I could stay.

Then you received a finish line of pleasure. 

And let the idea of me staying, go.

I do not understand you.

Nor is it my place to. 

It is now up to me to take responsibility for how I feel. 

The longingness. 

The detachment.

The grief. 

All of it. 

Let it be, to let it go. 

Let me let this go.

Why do I feel as though I am cursed to only explore toxic? 

In truth, toxic humans disgust me. 

The ones who claim to have a soul 

only to be left empty and cold. 

How many “I just want to be friends” conversations am I destined to experience before I meet something new?

I feel I am swimming through the murky waters of uncertainty and detachment. 

I am proud to write that I now know when something is not meant for me.

Call it misalignment. 

My stomach hurts thinking I left something there for you to find. 

The memory of me, sitting empty on your shower floor. 

All we wanted was fun.

Our definitions of fun were the epicenter of misalignment.

Fun, in my eyes, is the risk of meeting safe love. 

Fun, in your eyes, is something different. 

It’s not my place to judge your type of fun,

Rather understand that it is not my type of fun. 

And simply let myself walk off into the sunset. 

Wishing you the best.

I woke up today with the eyes of my past. 

Tending to the memories of what was never. 

Oh how I think of you in times of solitude. 

Wondering if you ever think of me. 

Let me let this go. 

This dream of we. 

Blonde hair, blue eyes.

A type I’ve never seen twice. 

Something about you stays pure. 

When I am alone it’s easy for me to fall in love with what was never in alignment. 

How challenging. 

The facade of togetherness. 

Nature calls to me. 

Like a mother asking a child to return home. 

Home. 

Welcome home. 

Why am I resistant to the idea of connecting with something bigger than myself? 

Something I can see.

Something I can feel. 

Rainbows on my eye lashes.

Protecting the view in which I see. 

Let me let this go.