darvinasafo:

#Staywoke
Cogently cogged When loving a person is not what others would do But you do it anyway. But until love stops. Pain is elliptic. Maybe I love you. But that is just me trying to prove something to myself. A fiction of mundane affairs. Trying to prove that I may be what you may love, But we would never know because we have never been in love. Proving how we may not deserve love because we are just so careless. Carelessly making love externally but we said our vows to each other with another. So I can`t say I broke mine if God was careless in trying to prove that we don`t know what we want. Because we seem to not need each other. And He was right. He is always right about you not wanting me because every girl seemed to need you. But a bedroom only cannot make me your woman . But it`s weird how you measure my sex appeal to maturity as if plugging carrots proves that I am not sexy but picking up cucumbers is supposed to give my vagina personality. But the school of my ethics was seen as detail in the fables you made frank. And expressing them was somehow supposed to make me communicate with Satan. Who was using me as your sickness as his home away from home. Teething on loves hospitality but how does love serve your soul? But where is the proof that I have if he has been feeding it sin? I guess you look pass my needs when you wash your car but fail to clean the interior of your mind. To a point of you not realising that the water I provide is to only save parts of yourself that the world has taken. But you don`t understand this surgery because you are trying to prove that you can`t love me this much. And I guess you are right. As if giving justice to my public orientation that dooms to love you if I were allowed to. Because you are not with me. And would rather have her cook your denial of me only to eat strange fruits of ripe lies just because you would rather be diagnosed with emotional anorexia. And of course you don’t know that God already prescribed you to me. But I don`t blame you because you never really had someone to treat you well. Because you are just so patient. But I guess God forgot to write how you could kill me. Due to being infected with your unfaithfulness . Because I am still waiting for you, faithfully. But who said we owe each other anything? How you baffle me. But I guess time proved to be a battery Because you spent it in the friend zone. And I was willing to make you the centre. But my emotions too died out. And the time isn`t quite right yet. Because apparently true love does not need proof. That eyes tell what the heart feels and all that stuff. But that alone is just funny. So I guess Love was trying to prove that we would never be together. Right?

Cogently cogged

When loving a person is not what others would do
But you do it anyway.

But until love stops.
Pain is elliptic.

Maybe I love you.
But that is just me trying to prove something to myself.
A fiction of mundane affairs.
Trying to prove that I may be what you may love,
But we would never know because we have never been in love.
Proving how we may not deserve love because we are just so careless.
Carelessly making love externally but we said our vows to each other with another.
So I can`t say I broke mine if God was careless in trying to prove that we don`t know what we want.
Because we seem to not need each other.
And He was right.
He is always right about you not wanting me because every girl seemed to need you.

But a bedroom only cannot make me your woman .
But it`s weird how you measure my sex appeal to maturity as if plugging carrots proves that I am not sexy but picking up cucumbers is supposed to give my vagina personality.
But the school of my ethics was seen as detail in the fables you made frank.
And expressing them was somehow supposed to make me communicate with Satan.
Who was using me as your sickness as his home away from home.
Teething on loves hospitality but how does love serve your soul?
But where is the proof that I have if he has been feeding it sin?

I guess you look pass my needs when you wash your car but fail to clean the interior of your mind.
To a point of you not realising that the water I provide is to only save parts of yourself that the world has taken.

But you don`t understand this surgery because you are trying to prove that you can`t love me this much.

And I guess you are right.

As if giving justice to my public orientation that dooms to love you if I were allowed to.
Because you are not with me.

And would rather have her cook your denial of me only to eat strange fruits of ripe lies just because you would rather be diagnosed with emotional anorexia.

And of course you don’t know that God already prescribed you to me.
But I don`t blame you because you never really had someone to treat you well.
Because you are just so patient.
But I guess God forgot to write how you could kill me.
Due to being infected with your unfaithfulness .
Because I am still waiting for you, faithfully.

But who said we owe each other anything?

How you baffle me.
But I guess time proved to be a battery
Because you spent it in the friend zone.
And I was willing to make you the centre.

But my emotions too died out.
And the time isn`t quite right yet.

Because apparently true love does not need proof.
That eyes tell what the heart feels and all that stuff.

But that alone is just funny.

So I guess Love was trying to prove that we would never be together.

Right?

Concord Take me apart. Without taking me. Until we both break down. If you don’t, Well basically, Fuck you. But my infatuation of you is older than art. The handsomeness that covers you is the raiment of my soul. So is it bad if I want you to have me without a wary look of lust , As I give you what can’t be given again? But how much more praise should my beauty give you? For every time I look into your hourglass eyes, I see all views of my soul that tell me It’s time to face us. But the wrinkles of our future make me doubt why you doubting. Because everyone sees it but us, That we should be together but we are too busy trying to break the clock to make more time. We stupid. So what? But i cannot cry for you because I’m already a widow in your wet thoughts. But I weep with the world as if it knew how much life you gave me. But sometimes I cannot change my thoughts because you are my mind. So I guess I need you to change. But I keep prints of your memories for I cannot allow myself to copy emotion that has died. And I think I know literature Because of how your language travels my lips. No words. Just alphabets of your voice. And although i may be hungry to see your sight, Your penultimate presence would wink fullness to the distance. As your arms reach the indelible portrait of mine just to look , I cannot help but boondoggle around the canvas of your depression. But causing me to embroil in such grievances is like making dry smoke of clouds to only bring about dry rain. Even with the weak relief that you lend me, The substance of it can only make sense to a shadow. For I may see what I want but in sorrow, silhouettes are dark in blind eyes that see a shiny shade. Even in all of this, I hope you know you have a lover. You just need your love to say so. Me, you, Us, we. Wait, Those are Errors. Because you made me believe that love could never win.

Concord

Take me apart.
Without taking me.
Until we both break down.
If you don’t,
Well basically,
Fuck you.

But my infatuation of you is older than art.
The handsomeness that covers you is the raiment of my soul.
So is it bad if I want you to have me without a wary look of lust ,
As I give you what can’t be given again?
But how much more praise should my beauty give you?
For every time I look into your hourglass eyes,
I see all views of my soul that tell me It’s time to face us.
But the wrinkles of our future make me doubt why you doubting.
Because everyone sees it but us,
That we should be together but we are too busy trying to break the clock to make more time.

We stupid.
So what?

But i cannot cry for you because I’m already a widow in your wet thoughts.
But I weep with the world as if it knew how much life you gave me.
But sometimes I cannot change my thoughts because you are my mind.
So I guess I need you to change.
But I keep prints of your memories for I cannot allow myself to copy emotion that has died.

And I think I know literature
Because of how your language travels my lips.
No words.
Just alphabets of your voice.

And although i may be hungry to see your sight,
Your penultimate presence would wink fullness to the distance.
As your arms reach the indelible portrait of mine just to look ,
I cannot help but boondoggle around the canvas of your depression.
But causing me to embroil in such grievances is like making dry smoke of clouds to only bring about dry rain.
Even with the weak relief that you lend me,
The substance of it can only make sense to a shadow.
For I may see what I want but in sorrow, silhouettes are dark in blind eyes that see a shiny shade.

Even in all of this,
I hope you know you have a lover.
You just need your love to say so.

Me, you,
Us, we.

Wait,
Those are Errors.

Because you made me believe that love could never win.

Perfection Is it me or does perfection make me feel weak? To be chosen by another place that makes one feel other. Otherwise by contentment that seeks no reach of ever being a saint. So I search for a paradise where God is ready but on who’s perspective? What if He is where I want Him to be? So maybe I am out of reach? But why does the exertion make me want to add to my soul and take away from heaven. But the syllable of the human condition would conclude that I am a Sinner. A Sinner as a word encompasses how I am waiting for parallels that alter my spirituality. Crossing paths with my shine that I have given as light. So that is how the light gets in? By society making me look at religion And I am expected to look at where I can be saved? In an institution, an enterprise or maybe a tree. But a hill has restrained  me to love against hope. With the believe that it could influence my left wing. Devoted to a destiny that would reincarnate the truth that I have judged. There obviously could be no grace in trying to balance an existing conscious with death. Compelling a moment of effortless prayers that expect to be a an offering in memory. A step away from a beast A plane away from angels. So yes I question. Eternity. Almost fell in love for a minute with a promised eternity that I never ever happily looked after. I think I’m lost.

Perfection

Is it me or does perfection make me feel weak? To be chosen by another place that makes one feel other.
Otherwise by contentment that seeks no reach of ever being a saint.
So I search for a paradise where God is ready but on who’s perspective?
What if He is where I want Him to be?
So maybe I am out of reach?
But why does the exertion make me want to add to my soul and take away from heaven.
But the syllable of the human condition would conclude that I am a Sinner.
A Sinner as a word encompasses how I am waiting for parallels that alter my spirituality.
Crossing paths with my shine that I have given as light.
So that is how the light gets in?
By society making me look at religion
And I am expected to look at where I can be saved?
In an institution, an enterprise or maybe a tree.
But a hill has restrained  me to love against hope.
With the believe that it could influence my left wing.
Devoted to a destiny that would reincarnate the truth that I have judged.
There obviously could be no grace in trying to balance an existing conscious with death.
Compelling a moment of effortless prayers that expect to be a an offering in memory.
A step away from a beast
A plane away from angels.
So yes I question.
Eternity.
Almost fell in love for a minute with a promised eternity that I never ever happily looked after.

I think I’m lost.

Fine Art Nude Photography by Norm Murray from www.photo.net and http://photography.outsidethenorm.comwww.photo.net and http://photography.outsidethenorm.com