I lost you with me. Perhaps.
I apologise earnestly and full of attrition.
I beg your pardon for inviting you into my soulspace, then taking you for a ride.
You should have held on to the handles.
It was irresponsible that you closed your eyes.
You cannot give me the responsibility to watch out for you.
Sometimes entering the water blind is irresponsible.
That’s why I don’t freaking do it.
You should grow out of seeking thrills at a certain age.
At least, i have the brow of Saturn. A pinch of sobriety.
You anger me.
You are so sensitive that i need a manual.
You feel like an idiot.
So what, you think i never do?
At one point, the masks fall and the intensity becomes unbearable.
We just have to refill the sun with the moon, let’s pay the price promptly and thoroughly and cleanse ourselves for daily life.
The hangover from wanting things that would look good.
Every day i intend to respect my soul yet every other day i sell it for fear of remaining naked.
The naked wound remains.