Spillage.

Oh I’ve been waiting patiently for the words to burst

to spill onto the page and do their very worst

and now I feel them rushing through my veins

too fast for my fingers it’s driving me insane!

They’re coming all at once and in a spiraled mess

and I truly did expect not a single thing less.

But still I make no sense of the foreign addled words

that whisper in my ear that I am everything I heard.

My horns are glowing now and want to come and play

fantasies are spilling there’s so much I want to say.

I want to talk for hours and lay upon the bed

I want to lead you to the devil and then wait whilst you’re fed.

I want to see the daisies, the rivers and lakes

and lay naked on the sand just for the sake.

I want to feel the warmth I want to feel the cold

but mostly, I just want to know that I told.

I want to keep it down, the ever climbing wall

it’s not because i’m scared that i’m really gonna fall.

It goes a little deeper and is muddled through the days

but I have to simply think that perhaps this is okay.

I accept I cannot see, I accept the path is cloaked

and is heavily guarded by a fairy tale moat.

I accept it is this way, I accept I have to feel

and finally I accept that maybe this is real.

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