Too soft for Penthouse. Too hard for Bon Appétit. I’m not sure where this sweet story fits as it swirls on the tongue, ready to be released. Perhaps a lick off the top will do me good; I just can’t match that rush.
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Yep…it will be like entering into a black hole to try and explain this one. I’m not sure if the wonky stars dancing around my head are even bright enough to find the end of this excerpt. Who will put me back together again?
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The webs I weave…I wish I could be more patient, like a spider. When I begin to spin for control, though, it always twists and turns into chaos. Then, I’m wrapped up in shame with no one else to blame but myself. Ugh…
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Will it be door number 1, door number 2, or door number 3? If I choose correctly, the truth may be revealed on the other side. Or it might just be a series of more doors, more choices, more mistakes, more doubts…oh boy. I’ve really stepped in it this time.
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How high can I go? Do the words flow easier when I’ve taken off into the clouds or does that make more thunder rumble? Every cloud has a silver lining, let’s see where the edge of this one takes me.
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As my heart reaches for the pen, my hands reach for my…I don’t know if this lyrical project to overcome any and all sexual addiction will result in any music from the heart; still, I stand firm in my resolve to unload.
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