Tiffs, sorties, struggles. There’s been so much, there’s been more negative than all accounts of positive ever possible. The contamination of 0s, 1s cause pain way greater than 2 digits. It’s often Binaries that split Binaries. We ofcourse, never were.
A strange connect, an unexplainable circumstance, that changes your eyes to the world and shuts mine. Never see, hear, believe again. What actions prevailed upon to curtail a bond so complicated? I’d never respect your past or trust your future. Never end to your circle.
The stage of life is such- voices are advices’n suggestions, not decisions anymore. Take your own call. I’m here for mine. Not giving another trial, but there’s something that I’m holding onto, was I your lavender or Violet? . Chances are dull yet fair.
Don’t expect anything, nor expect you to expect. Expectations are the roots of misery and betrayal. Not once did I spell out what you wished to hear, wonder what convinced your heart of pretentious truth. Truth is, “we’re all broken. That’s how the light gets in.” Truth is, no word rhymes perfect with “purple.”
{ I blame it on lack of reality. If only, things could be more real. Doesn’t reality appeal you more? }
P.S: Spent considerable time trying to rhyme purple.
scriptechtellus 