Can’t wait to be as free as Me.
The real Me, released, that’s not as powerless in speech, submissively wind up, passively accepting the World’s opinion, as I see fit to agree,
to keep my peace.
This Me is unleashed in private,
as chased thoughts are gathered and carried by the wind’s tease, the lightest breeze,
As a feather drifting in a humid Summer’s plea, of kisses to my over spoken lips,
too close my eyes,
to allow it’s gripping attention to my gyrating hip’s,
wildly enchanted by my own music’s, released scent.
To take surprise each hearts harm, as discord would be met by a patented railroad arm, that would come down, to stop and track friendenemy’s, with personal needs, to cross me, taken in by my losses, portraying fair weathered friend’s abilities, at my cost.
As my identity is fragrant upon a Linden tilia tree, spreading out my branches…
View original post 118 more words