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You should probably know. Empaths don’t always Predict accurately.. in fact one could say what we think is is only the extension of our attachments. I think you’ve heard me say that before. What fear would allow these projections. Am I the fear? Of course not. The inside of my balloon of a life is lined with shield carrying warriors… I am doing the work.

I threw a fit and the arms of the fit were shorter than my intention. I hurt the entirety of the free spots, I had to check the integrity of it all. Would I let it slip this feeling of mistaken identity. It is warm again in your bed. I let it slip again, it is heaven in your hair.

My floor is covered in the broken remains of anger and wood. Glass shards and hurled words and the walls have broken their promises with the ceiling. We all crash this way. And know that I’d marry you again this time because we say it. I will sweep this floor with the intention of a hunter.

Projections are as callous and swift floating like hang gliders into the best laid plans of your intuition. My intuition .. why and what I imagine. … dreaming isn’t the same invention, no not like it used to be. Arrow to my bullet. Free stand to my open door.

It is the living and then bending and you said it once. We are of the same substance.. you said it once and then I raised the flag.. and the dam would burst, your tears against my chest. And the warriors remain lined against the inside of that balloon .. welcome home.

Art credit ; Crush by Richard Siken — — Two Girls in Bed by Henri De Toulouse-Lautrec