Love is an act...

My minds eye still sees what no longer exists: insanity, blurred reality, or fantasies I'm suddenly victim to a war of worlds. I've heard love is an act of endless forgiveness. In this world he speaks to me so softly, in a tone of voice that begs forgiveness and uses words that I am weak for, "I love you", "dream girl", "marry me".

I, like so many before me, am unfortunately shackled to the robust images of white weddings, flowers, romance and perfection. And yet, as so many today recognize, there is a soft but not subtle, doubt that these things will ever come to be. And it is here, right in between my realms of reality and fantasy, where I'm pairing white orchids with empty bedsides, here is where I think of you and all your promises. I've never stopped believing that those promises were just as real and as true as you've always been. But I've also always known how far out of reach they can be. Although I've reached you many times, these short grasps were never whole enough to touch the promises of a life unlived. For you, I'd break the mold, skirt the line, and all the above. But in time, my greatest sacrifice, I find weakness & selfishness. It's here that we become distant, held in minute and hour hands that only touch in fortuitous fashion. For you, I'd jump minutes for hours, but for me, I hold on. In fear that your promises, my safety net, won't pull through.

I think at times that I am only half reality, but I am whole here in the makeshift world, the inception of my life and even now, writing this I can't tell whether this be poetry, prose, or a somber reality. Wish me luck without you, wish me love without you, wish me whole without you...

I think that's what Drake did. 

Love, Niomi