Buttermilk Song

Apologies are empty at times but ultimately all we seek is to make peace.

Forgiveness through repentance, so that we may move forward and release, all this pain, for it is in vain.

For we gain nothing if we choose to abstain from our true emotions, releasing valves long forgotten, to the point where internal combustion is certain.

Realizations of grace should only come through face value, unfortunately this electronic encrypted message shall do, as it always has, when I relinquish my disposition and my true feelings for you.

As you remained certain and healing wounds past due, I was seemingly hopeless and drunken on mystic wine, only a woman of your holy majestic proportions could have warped through time and coincided with my state of mind.

I remember, long ago, soaked to the bone and cold as snow, numb as the stones beneath my feet, a silken buttermilk baby locked eyes with me.

A fantasy was it not, until my evil thoughts reminded you of the pain that humanity has wrought, upon ourselves, the weight we shoulder and rarely tell, but we are not in a cell, there is no reason for us to believe paradise is further then what has previously set sail.

To no avail, that is a possibility, yet I for one have never saw another, certainly that is love, no coincidental futility.

For once, through words, I can express my humility, as it is relinquished and expressed solely to a singular entity yet through digital infinity.

Blossoming at best, forever wandering, that’s a test.

Remember when I used to say that it was solely your pure soul that anchored me to this painful location?

Now I realize that none of it truly matters, and that our heart, is we choose to be free, is the truth of one another’s vocation.

As I have you and you have me, love guides us eternally through the insanity of humanity.

To stay on course or to simply let it be?

That is our decision, never should that be burdened upon one of us, the other seething invisibly.

Yet that is our blessing and curse is it not, to realize that love itself is in the moment, never a wandering thought.

For I see you still and you saw me. I can’t watch another sunset without you next to me.

Is this futility?

Messages in the wind, all we can hope is that it is received.

Sending you Light through Love,



Categories creative writing, LoveTags , , ,

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