Mi Truth… |_ 0 \/ € |_ ! £ €

I'm cruising these lanes of life in neutral. Windows up, refusing to feel the emotional breeze of anything. There is nothing worth feeling if I can't feel you. Your breath against my neck, your lips against my cheek, your touch softly gilding by these walls. Slowing down traffic is what I'm known for now, Stopping at yellow lights as if I was paranoid or something. Making slow turns as if I am your queen looking and waving at the crowd. Daydreaming oops, there I go passing my exit again. Coming to a complete stop every time someone even thinks about rubbernecking or spinning me out of control. Driving Miss. Daisy? Hell no, Miss. Daisy is driving me. Straight off a bridge; in neutral.

I’m praying for a chance. Something somewhat happenstance

A moment where your heart meets mine, not by a slim or fat chance. I hope for success as I engage yearnings to be back in your trance. At first glance, my mind says stop letting him freelance your heart while the heart is willing to love, perchance to be bonded inside a circumstance of what your mind will glance in advance of what I know to be true romance. No, I must advocate an aggressive stance against what will kill any chance to have love enhanced, the truth of our song and dance. Looking askance in this interpretive dance, a game of chance.

😘

Feeling better isn’t what it use to be.

It’s ok... yet, something’s missing you see.

Away from humanity takes a toll on your recovery.

Craving for empathy from your heart’s impulse to connect with thee.

Holding on becomes what’s achieved spiritually.

It’s now just you and God’s destiny.

Be strong, for He will be all that He said He would be.

There’s no trace of failure in love.

Flying effortlessly like a white dove.

Wanting more than anything, “you”

...the fit of a glove.

Pure magic from above this hearts free love.

Never too much... it’s true-love,

never to be disposed of.

I’ve had that puppy love,

kind of love, and sort of love.

I’m ready, my forever love.

No forcing or molding into courtly love.

The unedited picture of Gods agape love.

Failure is not an option kind of love.

I’m writing this for you, with love.

Ride away with me,

over the hill beyond the tree.

Settle down with me,

there beside the mouth of the sea.

Climb upon His righteous knee,

or lay beneath heaven an send up this plea...

God open up our hearts and set us free.

...and when He answers be my emcee.

Ask that the sunrise shine within thee,

ask that when it sets, the love won’t flee.

Always remember who holds the key

to this life and to love abundantly.

I don't want you.

Yet, something inside needs to.

Feelings growing through.

Desires peeling onto you.

Charming from my point of view,

like sitting on a mountain taking in the view.

I don't have a clue...

But, from up here you're the perfect hue.

Coloring outside of the lines isn't what I'm used to.

I can't help but feel that I'm just passing through.

In lieu of what I know, I still want to need you.

Restraints aren't apart of MiTruth...

I just want to |_ () \/ € |_! £ €... and possibly you.

You're charming through and through.

It feels right, so I’ll keep you in my sites

holding back increases the appetite,

your touch, a warm beaming light

over this heart... a delight

resisting the temptation to take flight

only because it just might

work out when the time is right

the door is open and you got the invite

what’s right doesn’t take all of your might

naturally it builds its own hype

reservations aren’t needed for insight

genuine feelings flying like a kite

relieves the scariest stage fright

just ask yourself does it feel wrong or right.

What is the end, the blood of our sins?

No longer hues of red pouring out from within.

The sky bleeds in a purple blend.

Stronger than the sea of life’s blues and bargains.

Burning the core of the sun’s blood red grin.

I only want to see you laughing in the purple rain as I transcend.

The time to collect will come to an end, this is also true for the time to spend.

Age is just a number and childish is the way He sees us all in the end.

When the sky opens up will you have the chance to ascend?

To become His angle, a true godsend.

Worldly goods can’t be carried in.

Only the purest spirit can comprehend and judge who will attend.

Is this really the end?

Is the purple rain symbolizing those fallen; washing away your sins, or is it the final chance to let love in.

Forget me not, let me rest in the taste of your shot. It quenches not, lingering long enough to create a hotspot. Smoothly flowing sure to hit the right-spot. Listening for the glass to drop, letting me know that you haven’t forgot.

Growth without pain is staggered energy. Movements without purpose or exertion. With pain comes fear, healing, and endurance. The emotional price tag that’s attached to every ounce of love you've lost is priceless to your spiritual welfare. The dullness of varying degrees associated within the process of growth can seem to be overwhelming to the strongest of hearts. Tears of sorrow fall in the same way as tears of joy. Movements towards greatness can mimic the ways toward destruction. The heart knows what love feels like without movement it shall die. That doesn’t mean it knows how to identify or decertify, as the spirit does. Some say that the mind is the devils' playground, it’s vulnerable and open to assault just as easily as it’s the absorption of knowledge. What’s allowed to penetrate your mind will affect your overall growth process. The brain contains only one muscle and the purpose of that muscle is to carry blood from your beating heart. The enemy of growth knows where to utter the most doubt causing self-mutation of the spirit and throwing your heart muscle into rest. Without spiritual nutriment to promote growth, replace loss, and provide energy to your heart the chronic pain you’re facing doesn’t truly exist. It’s your mind distracting you... because you’re dead.

get out of your head

this isn’t another book you’ve read

climbing up the wrong tree bed

hoping to find what’s consciously dead

the mind is a tricky spearhead

it can stand alone, if it’s not braindead

become powerful or remain breastfed

raise yourself out of your mommas bed

grown men don’t throw shade ahead

of those who help them get a leg

no one cares about your bloodshed

nor who’s laying in that double bed

can you be self-sufficient; egghead

or will you need to be carried to your death bed

The pain, It can't be touched. It's hidden by my heart, as if it's being clutched. A small space; a hutch; free enough to be tossed around in a mental game of doubledutch. It's been too long, a bit much. Afraid of letting it out, its become my crutch. I'm broken inside weak, lonely, scared, and fighting for such. Everyday, l awake yearning for an escape, the freedom, the bondage of passion, his touch.

You mean more to me than just your past. Insecurities and the love that didn’t last. Your mistakes are not a permanent mask. Secrets and happiness will always clash. Love within can never be a backlash. You mean more than that eagle you cast. Anger spills over causing hearts to crash. Spawning ripples of whiplash; a gash. Distrust and suspicion tighten like a sash. Dispensing pure love like a hot flash. Leaving your spirit weak, mind abash. You mean more than that balderdash. No need for a single batting eyelash. True love never requires any rehash. Trust your heart and come out of that prickly ash.

Free you’re mind

Uplift the hand of time

It waits for no one; never left behind

Upon this rock, the stars shine

Thy spirit has never been blind

Smokescreens and weakening spines

For those afraid to endure the climb

Freedom to grow, glow and be divine

Strength without integrity; unconfined

Keeping up with other... major waste of time