Call it minuscule. Irrelevant. Even purely ignorant. Yet, don't mistake it for those moments of desperation or when you sit alone and realize that you're maternal time-clock is steady ticking.
Those moments.
Cliche moments. Sitting alone in your bedroom engulfed in pure solace; solid clarity. Your developed short attention span wanders to that remote and you eagerly unlock that portal of false realities; knowingly. Willingly.
Those robot fingers surf; purposefully allocating that 'something' you're insides has been yearning for all day. Almost like an addict awaiting that next flight to a higher entity. The inconvenience is over; meanwhile your stuck staring into that mystical abyss of over-exaggeration with unmistakable anticipation to feed that inner hunger for silver linings.
My wide brown eyes gleam and glaze over instantly. Infatuation at the slight semblance of possibility.
Love
Model perfect, bestowed gracefully with beauty unseen to man at first yet found throughout the course of time. Insecurity blossoms into bold confidence as her inner's crave him. Dates. Flowers. Steady.
Conflict. Distance. Realization of loss. Recapturing of feelings. Gladly enamored in 'love'.
I withdraw that needle and witness the blood puddle around my usual incision of choice.
Temporary satisfaction engaged.
The high heightens my minds eye of loneliness, stressful happenings and that yearning.
Whatever.
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