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Sometimes we like people for what we see on the outside,
the periphery person, the person at the gate,
a gate which keeps us from the path to their inner being,
we fall for their mask,
we fall for an unrealistic expectation that we have,
we ignore our gut, and choose to believe that we can make it work,

however, like a pair of jeans that borderline fit us, and us them;
they look great on us, and we look great in them,
I do have that bulge and my legs are too long,
and maybe they are a bit tight and not quite the right shape for us,
(Deep breath in and out for bullshit effect)
but my ass looks great and look how visible my quads are,

however, with some wear and a few washing-machine cycles;
that tightness…is too tight,
the colour in your dance starts to fade,
things get complicated, things stop working like they used to,
that beautiful rhythm,
the joy, the happiness, what happened, how, why, when,

(Deep breath in and out for bullshit effect) and maybe we realise that we knew things would end this way all along,
we were just desperate to find something to fit, someone to fill that hole in our heart,
the desire, the need to express that natural instinct to care for a child, to be a mother,
to care for them, to do everything in your power to bring them joy, to bring them happiness,
to encourage and aid them to be the best person they can be,
maybe it was never about them and all about you,
perhaps that was just your worth and all that you could be,

was anything real or was it just fantasy,
was it love or was it just dependency,
that longing you feel, like an addiction,
longing for a reunion with that sweet embrace,
a sweet but deadly embrace from a thing that drags you down,
smothering you, locking away your true-self, putting you in chains,

life is not easy, life is so complicated, we are so complicated,
everything changes, time keeps moving, shit happens,
there’s no going back,
people aren’t who we think they were, people aren’t who they think they are,
am I who I think I am, I don’t even know who I am,

f*ck that life, f*ck people, f*ck my metaphors,
all of us are fucked, we are all cursed, we are all human,

[PAUSE for x seconds]

are any of us real,
is anyone real or is it just me,
but am I real,
what is this,
what do I want,

do you want to be one of those people,
where life is easy,
where love is simple,
where living is living and not a constant struggle,

red pill or blue pill,
I choose the red pill,

I won’t be trapped beneath the deep sea of faecal matter that is “normality”,
Normal is not my reality,
My reality is suffering and pain,
Crashing and burning,
And getting up to do it again,

With some trial and error,
Maybe I will find heaven in this hell,
maybe I won’t,

to sleep, perchance to dream,
everything changes,
enjoy the ride
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Submitted by PWRBTTM_0X45 on March 08, 2021

2:40 min read

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    "Ride" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 6 Dec. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/62972/ride>.

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