Tell Me The Secret and I Will Make It My Religion

Here I sit on another indistinguishable night spent alone staring at my keyboard blankly waiting for the inspiration to cease. I would love nothing more than to pull the woman I love close and lose myself in hair down the back of her neck for a few blissful hours of sleep; feeling that security of holding someone as close as possible knowing they long for no place other, for no one other, for nothing other. I cannot tell you when exactly I lost that feeling but I know what came to replace it.

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January 14, 2016 5:08a

You see, I thought you left me when she took my breath away like all of a sudden the door opened and you jettisoned out the escape hatch like the right droids in the worst place and the best time to evade the clutches of darkness to become a crutch to clutch in the hopes of not needing one but holding on for dear life to the edge of a solid wood door with room for two in iceberg-flavored water while the soundtrack plays on loop hearkening back to the foundations of a musical mysticism that provided a context to construct concrete contradictions of character to and through a distorted piecemeal-tatter of a quilt with boarders left yet undefined while becoming all that more scripted and standardized to fill a lyrical framework of miscalculated misconception and misdirection mistakenly enacted and erected in the hopes of someday not fearing hope itself.

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