Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Ad Nauseum

In my head, his eyes are vivid.
You can see the world, the beauty, the ugly.

His words never wait to ambush and attack.
They spill downward and flow.

He will have hands to pick me up
When I fall to the darkest darks in my mind,

And his laughter will bring the
Sunshine to any wilting flower.

When we dance, he sees
Only me.

And when we cry, he sees
Me through the storm.

Our conversations span hours,
His intellect and mine clashing.

We will travel often, try new things
And meet new people without feeling chained.

We combine our love of reading,spending hours
Recommending masterpieces one another.

He is a doll and his lips I kiss.
Oh, by the way, he doesn't exist.

10-6-10


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Ad Nauseum

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