They Still Lost That Bet

I’m exhausted. I’m altering my style. I’m coming at you more fiercely, I’m more direct. I know to pull when it starts to get too heated – We know to breathe when we get too out of breath, but we don’t slow our pace – We don’t want air as much as we want to feel a genuine burn in our lungs; You just need some laughs shot into those veins. You don’t take breaks like you should, and I go right on without lunch. You do not look me in the eyes like those few times, fuck; If you ever did stop time it was when you were mesmerizing me with those gems – As for my ability – I managed to slow it down a few occasions by reaching out my hand to call you back to bed; Really the clock nearly stopped when we were nose to nose.

Can I be soft for a night?
May I melt into the sidewalk?
Would a laugh attack be alright?
Could I wipe cake on your cheeks if I’ll lick you clean?
I know you’d hate that, but it’s the lion in me!
I’m a loud roar, and the playfulness of a child we all need
I’m never too dangerous,
You know that about me.
I’ll take you to the edge,
and hold you over just so you can see it
Will I let you go over? Only if you ask me

She won’t look at you, & you know you don’t deserve closure; Not like the kind you’d get from her gaze where when she closes her eyes – After she looks away, Like the sealing of the garden of Eden – You’ll never find yourself to be a smiling memory on her mind. You’ll be random triggers; She’ll end up pulling; But she’s not afraid, we’ve nothing to lose. These things are ambiguous, like short term parking or, to be fair – If that is possible – The look she gives you as she leaves the library. Or maybe she doesn’t. We’re just people making up stories in our heads to tell ourselves as we lay down to bed. It’s really not that complex, if you can get your neck out above the weeds.

Yes, Step up to this next level,
You’re the goddess and deserve this view of the temple
The key is to keep your feet moving
Regardless of the situation your grit keeps your tempo
Do you think this is a good time?
Do you feel like this could be your first life coming so high?
You could sing all night for a breath of air.
Silence would be the last note on the score,
Tune so good everyone hits repeat though;
It’s absolutely rude of me to listen to you again after you go.

Do you want another example of how I don’t let anything rest in my head? I know the dangers of taking things too far, but I also know the reward for risking sanity – The danger of being too safe is eating far more potential than my forays into depths of the unknown – Everything is calculated. You’re calculating right now. Should you look up? Should you focus on the possibility that what you’re seeking is directly before you? Or do you keep it on your mind while restricting where you stare off into the distance; Fearful that you might have to confront something your eyes land upon – It’s costly to live; You will always have nothing, giving everything each day; I told you before what Euler proved right? Do you know how much effort I have to exert to get crystal clear ice for these drinks? Not all that much if I take the time to use the right tools. Everything is about using the right tools for the task at hand; That is if your skill is lacking. You know that skilled individuals can accomplish more with less – So what are you waiting for?

The sky was so big it broke my soul,
Reached to hold hands, and I turned into an ocean;
Became part of what I knew I was,
So vast but we still fit inside the only cup

I know you’ve been waiting and it’s hard to keep up with how careful I’m being – With how I may or may not be acting. You should do whatever you want, this is your vigil. It will be your last breath after all. I know you; It’s hard to feed yourself; So much is hard to swallow. The quiet has its lulls. You have your lulls, when you let yourself collapse. Have you ever burned a forest? Have you ever built up that friction amongst the tinders of your soul and blew gently with your heart’s weepings to set everything at your back, everything that lays before you to waste so you might pull from the last smoldering cache; like a slow birth, one agonizing shriek at the singeing of your finger tips as you reach in accepting the charring of your palms, to rip from that mess of ash the last ember; The reason we burn our forests

You know your worth is more than my lost wings.
I did not cut them off for you;
But the gods still lost that bet on what I wouldn’t do.