You seductress, you took it upon yourself to completely dismantle my carefully, meticulously created constructs. You detonated the walls of my resistance with an atomic bomb. ‘Bang bang bang’ went the sound of gunshots ricocheting after your complete and utter dismantlement of the walls I had carefully constructed around me.
You caressed me with your sweet essence. Damn, I was completely and utterly engulfed, enthralled by your sheer essence. You seeped into my pores and made me one with you. You whispered beautiful sweet utopian ideals in my receptive and all too eager ears.
Damn, you were good! Suckered me right into your lair of less-than-ideal utopian ideals. Your tongue…damn, your tongue…such beautiful words you uttered. I fell for it – hook, line and sinker. Hard, fast, lightning speed.I tumbled down my own carefully constructed walls and found myself picking up the fragmented pieces one at a time.
The painstaking reassembling of constructs and ideals. Such hard work! You sure did a good job. Make that slow clap. You fragmented, displaced, shape-shifted…damn, you fell short of completely disenfranchising the very fragments that make up my being.
I am still waiting for your promises of utopia. You know, the very same promises that were said with love and intention. What happened to all those sweet promises that you whispered in my all too eager ears? You promised me better. You picked me up when I was flailing. You took my hand when I was not steady. Damn, you were so convincing.
I am still waiting for your promises of utopia, the very promises that you made when those beautiful eyes of yours teemed with sincerety. Why did you let go of your promise? You were there in the moment. Your ideals were intertwined with a desire for longevity. Did you give up on longevity?
I am still waiting for your promises of utopia. You sang to me so beautifully. What happened to the beautifully sung melody of promises of perpertuity? You should not have over-promised and under-delivered. You should have been real about your limitations. Promises of utopia? Well, that pretty much went out the window, didn’t it?
I should have seen this coming from a mile away…but damn, you were good! Promises of ideals, of utopian-centric musings.I have come to reconcile with the fact that waiting for your promises of utopia will very well paralyse me.
I could say I am still waiting for your promises of utopia…but I would be lying. Not anymore. I waited until my wells ran up dry, until my poetry books were filled with longing for your words, ‘ here I am, as I stand before you, right this very minute, I come in my nakedness, laying myself bare, in total vulnerability to your embrace, latching onto the hope that you will catch me when I fall.’ Such words were never uttered by you.
You promised me utopian ideals. I waited and waited until my hair turned grey. You sure know how to turn the cold shoulder. But hey, it’s all good, isn’t it? ‘Life goes on,’ you chime in. Guess what? You are right… life goes on. With that, I stopped waiting for your promised ideals of utopia.
That was the day that liberation tasted as sweet as nectar. Damn, it feels so good to feel the sun shining again.I let go of unfulfilled ideals. Liberation sure tastes good, doesn’t it?!
You promised utopian ideals. I knew you were just selling me a dream, but latch on to rainbows and unicorns I did. I am now wiser and better. I am no longer waiting for your promised utopian ideals.