Cruel
You once called me cruel.
Well twice in fact
A shocking word for my ears to hear directed towards me.
The girl who wears her heart on her sleeve
Despite convincing some that she is as hard and cold as a wicked winter’s night.
She is actually raw and exposed to the few that care to look
You seemed to be a looker
The one that could see it
See her
The tumultuous and swirling energy swaying and singing loud just beneath the surface that most dare not to inspect
So for you to break in
Inadvertently perhaps
But break in you did
And it drives me crazy
Your trespassing into my inner being
She said,
he sounds like he can be cruel
To you
Her word
Cruel
Unbeknownst that she used the haunted word
to identify you
To me
And you are
You hurt me
Ever so
Frequently and decently
Despite your denial of that possibility
But as she also saw
I am in love with your mind
Your spirit
Your capriciousness
It seduces me to a place that is
Moody purples and maroon
Deep and dark and intense
Like a heady complicated glass of red
The rich smell
The layers of taste
Toying with the senses
The tastebuds
Exciting them with each lick of the lips
Are you real?
Or are you simply another construct
Of my deep imagination?
Are you in fact just a mere mortal
that she has projected her dreamy ideals onto?
Or are You real?
Not perfect
No one and nothing is
Real joy is in loving and adoring the chaos when it is pure of heart and the simple belief in the unconditional
That is the dream
The true dream
Where we could all let our guard down
Embrace and be embraced for it all
The dark and dirty as well as the virtuous and light
Held like a dichotomy of spirit
Ever present and contradictory
Good luck to us all
