My reply didn’t even answer your question
You were already running
At the ensuing uncertainty
Of the situation,
Desperately afraid of unfamiliar territory
Yet you talk about honesty
Like it’s the stuff life is made of…
Like it’s the stuff you’re made of
And it’s not even enough as it is, in your life.
At least practice what you preach
You talk about honesty
But still want me
To tell you
What you want to hear
You talk about honesty
But you’re living a lie
And this lie has become your truth
So yourself you can soothe
While the TRUTH you are so afraid to confront
Remains in ambiguity
Much to your comfort
So how am I to be honest with you,
When you’re not even honest with yourself?
She said. So I asked her, “What does that make all women?”
Let’s just say I haven’t heard from her in a while.
via Daily Prompt: Risky
Before you take a risk, make sure the (expected)reward is worth it.
via Daily Prompt: Partner
Partner in Crime
Partner in rhyme,
A pen I bought for a dime
Will be my partner in time.
My dancing partner,
My writing partner
I dance with my hand
To a beat only I can master
via Daily Prompt: Imaginary
“…….As I was passing through this human town I came across a rather interesting scenario. There were loud sounds coming from a sound magnifier, which though they did not interest me, seemed pleasant to listen to by the humans crowded there. Music, they called it. One of the most engrossing things I have ever encountered in my travels. That a simple systematic combination of different sounds can result in something so… unpredictable, and its ability to alter, in my experience, your entire thought process. A thing of extremes, and a diversity unmatched. I can’t describe it enough, really. You just have to experience it.
So in the middle, right in the middle of the crowd, was a lone female moving in such a coordinated fashion which i later understood to be their form of dancing. Quite vigorous for my tastes but a feast for the eyes if you found a sufficiently skilled dancer. Those in the crowd watched intently, following her every move with their eyes and occasionally throwing pieces of metal and coloured paper which apparently were of value…….”
~ Observations of an Imaginary Friend
what happens when your intuition becomes your instinct?