Freshman year college or
Maybe we were sophomores
Sizing each other up from across a crowded room
or was the room empty?
I am not sure
Another reason I can not decide if
Your reality is my fantasy

Living in a matrix
Designed by an unknown architect
Lleaves me moving from love to hate
I do
Or not
What is the question?
Where is the answer?
Why are we back and forth?
Ahead rather than behind our differences?
30 years of misguided indecisions

So I stand at the crossroads
Green lights flashing as the train stops to pick me up
I pause
I falter
I surrender to the possibility
No start to finish
Red lights flashing
The train pulls off
No doubt
The fantasy is over
And clearly you are gone

Destadarling

“Writing is a potion of devotion, magical, mysterious and mighty” Desta

"Love is like the sea. It's a moving thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from the shore it meets, and it's different with every shore. ”
Zora Neale Hurston

the whole thing had a very visual feel.. like I could imagine the editing of the scenes almost like a mini Refn film.

Thank you very much for your feedback PG. Indeed when my fingers hit the keys to write these words, the vision was very clear and definate. All that I was feeling in that moment crystalized into this piece.

Desta

“Writing is a potion of devotion, magical, mysterious and mighty” Desta

"Love is like the sea. It's a moving thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from the shore it meets, and it's different with every shore. ”
Zora Neale Hurston