Let down, I feel my heart had been sucked into a vacuum. Everytime I think I see what could possibly be a glimpse of what I dreamed of, I lose my tongue, swallow my blood, and misplace my words. Heart stops and beats twice, sensing a seizure, or is it a stroke... If only I had a stroke of luck, I could snap my fingers and relive my one time to shine; perhaps redo a moment in that moment in which I wasn't at my best. Or was it the other way around? I'll never know, but I'd sure like to ask; ask why I went from such a divine state of mind to being devoured by inadequacy...
incompetency...
of such dearth, that one must rely on now shackled resources once regarded distasteful to provide the some kinda dream that I hoped to provide. My veins, once full of life, now lock up and freeze at the thought of a name. And get this: my temporary antidote may solve my emotional scarring, but now another problem may exist, and that's never good. So I resolve that I can never return to that road...
Fuck that.
That's my road. I paved that way, the least that can happen is that it is respected, and never returned. I cannot even bear to put it on paper this burning chaste that consumed me since the very first hot August. Or was it that eventful November afternoon... It really doesn't matter. How I sustain is still uncertain; but until then, the entity is not a person, not a human being, but only a name that deserves my most bitter venom, but doesn't even deserve to hear the words come out of my mouth. It is one that I care for yet despise the most. It's not a woman, not a bitch, but merely, the undecisive entity that could be nothing more than the name of this freelance...
Frustration