My Lonely Thoughts

My self

In the rage of one defining moment I am longing

I crave a passion that only is permitted as shallow and no purpose

I hear the rain against the window and scream with sorrow

I am anxious to call a favor

To fill a sexual void

Only to see that same void walk out the door and not necessarily be mine

I have the opinion to say no but this a void this deep screams yes

I want to the longing for keep

The ways of saying to the world that this is mine

To have for a few hours

To beg to have for a lifetime

I can keep the soul at bay

But the reality is

I am lonely

I am without the counterpart

Need to survive

Needed to work with

Argue with

Stroke in the walls that need dusting

So frustrating

Seeing the scenes of a movie I crave even more

I pride myself in the nothingness that is within me

I have no other interest be to be spiritually, sexually, physically satisfied

I want to be greedy with him

Not share him with friends and family

I want to treated the same

Not shared with family or his boys

Having the indulge of his life in inside a tunnel so bare

I want to the opinions to say go deeper

All of these want but likes I have to make a small change in this reality

The thrust or should I say thirst on some day or beyond unbearable

How can I open myself on the worth of opinions when even the object of this all is not around

I have the passion, competence and worth

Yet I give it to the unworthy and the even the worthless

I have the begging opinion to set things up

I have so much to where I nothing

Being able to say come to me

And they come

And then say sum to me and they cum

Such a power how come I cannot get the permanently

Why can I not have something permanent in the corner?

Why should i/do I have to always venture around for something so spiritually natural

I have such an absent love to where I now think it is lost

Lost in a place I cannot get to

And surrounded by bricks of false promise and destroying intensions

Small is my life

But great is my hunger

I must maintain

For I want what he has but what he has could never be mine

He wants what I have but only by the memory of what was once given

And then by the chance it could be given again

So wreck less….so gone

Make Me Rain

Make me rain

The sounds of the drench

The water of my waves

The slim province that is the valleys

Glide the wet sipping instrument across the lands

To find its way to the worship that is also consider a promised oasis

The grip void that pauses but never stops

The description of undefined and yet the description on the lands

The waves, the open continues seas

The boat that wishes to doc

The motions of no sea sickness

But only the visually sickness of a never ending rush

Combined by the liquid infusion

Then combine by the force

With this can you feel the pressure?

The un doubting put in work metaphor

Only to be replace by the unedifying words that even the dictionary couldn’t comprehend

So how can water of naturalism be so great?

Well…it can only be produce by the one and only natural him….lol