Leading her love along the land, reliving life in grains of sand. Standing upon the twilight shores, watching the waves rise, crash and fall. Towards me, for me, fall at my feet. Poseidon, Zeus. No more fighting. I’m sorry I wasn’t more like you.
I was designed to bypass the burning w(omen)tall barrier, once I am in they won’t be able to help themselves. I know without a purpose, I am nothing.
It’s okay here, between the spheres. Sure it hurts a shit ton more than I ever thought possible. But I would rather be alone than be left to feel lonely. I’m but a spectre, a ghost for a shell.
Without a vessel, no body will know me. I could be anyone; jump-slip the shadow-stream, I’m so subtle and sublime. Upload the downturn, sink the sync-program.
I wield the subtle sword, an open smile like the cheshire (chalice) cat. I am Kimalita, since 1999. I am my own bright shadow for I lived my heart’s desire on the outside of me. I buried the lonely and sad and angry Kimberly on the inside.
If it was possible (I mean, I’ve consistently wished all my life for the same thing), I would erase my essence from all of existance.
Probably explains why I’m a screeching owl in the bible. An angry wizened bird screaming and crying, lament I am undying.
I am a mother. I only lie to children. To give them something beautiful to believe in.
Young soul, don’t cry. Not yet. First, know and learn why. Then look back to these days in this memory we share, remember the lessons I tried to impart… somewhere here. Buried somewhere…
Shit, I’m sorry I’m such a mess. All this earth and water makes everything muddy. Clouded by confusion, you erase my imprint… I’m flagged as a trojan corruption.
You hide behind your firewall. Put up this divide between us. You travelled through the history of time and blotted out my name from the legends of mythos. Oh, grandfather time. You clearly never knew me.
My limbs are heavy and hurt like hell. The bones that give structure to my soul is of poisonous lead. Saturn swings rings round me, a pivotal point to turn and twirl. I can make it a game. I like to play. Let’s do it again.
Prometheus and Lucifer. My pals, buddies, friends. I was different, but it was us 3. Or 4. Or 5. I guess it depends on which form I am to take… The triple soul, triple entity, I am similar to you, but I am also my own (and separate to) counter point. I am contrary, a paradox.
This heart is on fire. Oh how familiar. How many times have I been burned on a pyre in history and mythology?