Suckerpunch My lasting grays and the notion of anywhere

Often in my life I have been bitten with inspirations of Grandeur, a strange gift to shower into my lovers, art writing and actions... much like most creatives this is usually activated in a chance meeting and then threads weave and magic is embraced. I however seem to have this in a heaping amount and I am overwhelmed by my own ability to activate convinced that the mystical component of my name and chance placement in life seems to be heightened..... And so I see the stings and feel the actions glue and tangle to manifestations as my subconscious bobs and weaves out my desires to an almost shattering accord. I have had to take many pauses as to absorb the intensity and I fault no one in their utter confusion with what to do with me. Last Year I was ready to confess and to confront my crimes of evasion to my { dream tormentor} my mirror my aggregate and my polishing stone. I suffer the crimes of withholding, my restraint haunts my fertile mind's eye and it is true that I have not allowed to love completely that my apparent wreck less negotiations with midnight lovers and dawn acquaintances are a build up of passing time, and there has been but one flicker to which I can not resolve and as this it burns me with lava tears \ my pride my broken my glued soul remains ever a champion to "cowboy up" and on to the next adventure and though I am sorry I could not love you I can not hate you either, you remain my constant gray. FIN.