To long

I am not exactly sure what I was writing. I was overwhelmed with emotion. Also, I was listening to on of my favorite artists, Lana Del Rey, whose music always inspires me to write.

I crave your stone hold grasp. I crave the visuals you use to seclude me from the narrow world in which we live.  A world filled with rocky eyes and long lost dreams. I long for your idealistic tales that yearn and grieve for the American dream. I sway with suns dawn and the peak of light, in which my stomach swallows my soul. I envelope oxygen as if it were a stick of nicotine to cure the morning mourn. I long for the soft legs, which cease to drag the weight of my body. My fingers crave the lost cells in the strands of your hair. I dream of a silent apology hidden in context, read my words and maybe you will see that you were once my dream. Feed me your tales, fill the empty hole burning through me. It hurts to look, my cigarette burn still scars the flesh of my skin. Words of endearment carried away as the sand drifts from the beach to the lake. Oh for the sake of love in hate, how shall the words separate? Antonyms, interpreted wrong through lies spoken by the eyes. The person, in the mirror in which you despise, regrets of motions caused by blind, blatant, raw, remorseless time. Please pick the sweet grapes from the thorny vine and drink, smell, taste, till instinct takes belated apologies and cradled obsessions from the day.  I hate the summer in May, I love the cold, and it gives the excuse to find warmth, warmth hidden in sweaters, cardigans, jackets, vests and wild zest. Oh now try your best, turn your past into a memoir written in your head. Your head is now hard, tired and full of lead.  The oppressed dreams, in which you pretend, are now dead. Do you see the Psychotic puzzle pieces scattered soggy in the oceans water? Can you tell I’m spinning stories, making excuses my father?  Can you feel the salt that holds bodies afloat? Can you see each grain is contained to glisten in lies? Each bemused by darkness that causes us to die. Oh, common sense could you ever be so visible and kind. Please beautiful guide, take me on a solar powered mind enticing ride . Oh, you are the one and only I shall confide.  With you never shall  this transindentalist die. Never shall I trust the romantic dark eyed, pitiful, beguiling, witty, smart pry. I Gripe its back, let my nails tare its skin and scratch as I scream. Then I am smacked, held back, on the ground.  Wow, I have become raw, wooden, wobbled, lost and this is what I saw. I saw the truth, truth which you knew. You knew, only by the sixth sense, graded in the thoughts pondered in your head.  Oh look it’s the infamous, outdated, unrelated, stereotypical line, you pinky promised never to recite. Oh I see the heights we climb to wet our feet and beckon for acceptance. We tighten our palms in hopes of being husky and elegant.  I smell the sour scent of cigarettes, which is the perfume I  used to spray on my neck and overpriced dress. Oh please come on up my stereotypical guest. It’s the hype and the zest of the best dressed, cocooned in their nests. Oh the chosen ones are truly blessed.  And I watch disgusted. I am disgusted by their pure bread love fest. I now know, never to attend their parties in the appropriate dress,  my hair will be parted oddly to the side and be one f*****g mess.  Oh, Words and metaphors will rule the world, no ax can smash the letters sounded out by my lips. Goddammit I need a rant and a quick fix. Give me superiority to tower over and expose my hidden insecurities. Lure people with money, charisma, promises so grand. You will be the head man. Suffocate your lungs that are used to steal oxygen. Exaggerate your stories into fantastic tales. Fluctuate the morals. The salt is only used to saddle you up in the pretense of you two faced claim. Now who do you blame? Wars fought in mirrors reflecting from the past. Everything happened so stunning and fast. Blast, bombs destroying a place named heaven, 1942, a year feared. Who really had a clue?  Bemused by propaganda and jobs, innocent people robbed.  So immoral it brings me to tears till I sob.