I’m spinning now but it’s not the glorious adventure I remember
nay, it’s an unsettling, sort of sick feeling
I want to frolic with abandon
but my clumsiness keeps getting in the way
Is there anyone who will take my hand?
help me cross over this little hill
the hill that seems to keep growing as I climb
because I really don’t want to be alone in this
But my cries echo off the boulders strewn in my path
the air seems thin and I can hardly breathe
I stopped my body spinning but I can’t stop my thoughts
spinning, pouring out of my head like a waterfall
The lightness I was looking for has left me
I’m adrift, left to focus on climbing, tripping all the way
why aren’t there others here struggling with me
why am I so alone in this beautiful, terrible place?
Maybe I’m seeing things through the aperture of an illness
that would make so much more sense
than thinking anyone would just leave me without a good reason
or is that indicative of my clumsiness again, thinking I’m not alone?
So much passion here. Palpable.
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I know, I’ve got some issues.
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Lol!
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At least I’m amusing, Diffuse. That’s something. 😉
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You are acerbically witty (among a great many other virtuous things), which is, to amusing, as is a Shakespearean sonnet to a high school limerick.
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That’s really a lovely sentiment. I think I’m a bit more base and prurient for a sonnet, but I’ll take the compliment.
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Oh, I don’t know about that… The sonneteer is notorious for his ardent passion for a variety of metaphoric representations of the phallic and flirtatious. I think you’d make a scorching sonnet!
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Hmmm. I just may have to mull that over. Sounds like effort. Could be interesting.
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