you make the world a semisphere,
it baffles me yet I wishfully press on,
how does one lie on the equator of love?
your voice resonates in a forlorn chamber,
like a choir in melodic harmony, the minor third kind.
step up to warmth and in an instant fall down to a chilling reality.
we are not two halves;
half casts of a version of ourselves,
damning for attention.
i give in with a nod.
consciousness drifts into oblivion,
it yearns,
and even cries.
free myself from the ruffians,
the beureaucrats,
the autocratic
give freedom to express and be true,
for that is what you deserve,
for that is what I expect.
a decency of truth and sincerity.
what is the purpose of being warm when cold?
what is the purpose of conformity in the face of anarchy?
what is the purpose of saying yes when you mean no?
our existence burdened by fuzzy logic and superposition,
a predicament harnessing decisions of indecisions?
go with it. be strong. let the damnation flow because it is real.