I want every man that meets me in person to look into my eyes and instantly fall in love.
I want every woman to feel the same way.
At some point I want to always feel how I feel when my body courses with endorphins.
But I also want to hurry up and die.
I want to look at myself in a mirror and actually see the parts that other people claim to see, instead of every single oblong, out of shape, glaring, scratched up, dirty flaw.
I want the future people to have dug up all of my poems and prose and thoughts and words a thousand years from now and use them to start a brand new religion based on art and peace and love and realistic expectation.
At some point I want to love myself constantly and not just in moments of inspiration.
I want to crawl from bed to bed until I end up in one with a lover who is not only delicate and generous but worthy of my time and body while he is fully dressed and in the light of the sun.
I want to make moves that don’t end up just being lessons and mistakes.
At some point I want you to apologize and tell me that you love me as much as I love you and come back to me with open arms before this day ends.
But I ain’t getting none of that shit
Not today
Not now
Not ever
I will just have to accept that
At some point…

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