Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Why do I have to choose loving myself or loving you? I want the freedom of routine and the freedom to abolish routine. The ability to paint and shape and do to this body what I will, and still have your love. To not feel like I have to hide though I've done nothing wrong. To never have to hide, even if I had. To know your love is unconditional and strong, and deeper than the surface of this world. For you to know that mine is. And though I'll always love you, my patience is wearing thin. My love is not a contract. Not to be your flawless plaything or always at your side. Not to keep myself unblemished and serene. Not to hide away from all the world but you. My love is an oath. To love you, always. To try to understand your insanities. To be with you in all you do. To stand by you. Not to agree with you. Not to become you. Not to give up myself in pursuit of you. But I'm already gone. My small acts of self are shut down as rebellions against parental force. My wanders into other realms are held as attacks on the one we share. I'm beginning to feel like I'm drowning I beginning to give up on the hope you promised me I'm beginning to give up on me