Expectancy: the Metamorphosis
in need, in need of more personality, just an overlooked rose garden, hidden by dirty snow, looking at other roses, regrets of blossoming many lightyears ago, my need revealed its face to me while savagely slashing mine, just moments ago, personality and all other distinctions withered away just moments ago, oblivious to the fact that I am the poet by day and the dramatist by night, but this particular afternoon she finally seen me, forced to crave more, to hunger after, and to thirst for more, she found me broken, on nearly bended knees, with just one need, pleading with any angelic atmosphere or being or blessing or anything, hoping others like her could surround me, like this never heard before but deeply missed harmony, she even surround sounds me, she surrounds me, she sounds just like me, even while I admit my depravity, in the lowest of tones, desperately anxious for more, yes, but not more than my one need, just a rose, now speaking barely in monotone, this is how most describe me, luckily, she sees my inner glow, my intentional heart, my personality, and as she gives me back my sunshine, the smiles with silvery tints, tainted with possibilities, impossible for me to be ashamed of an unwed hand gently caressing a suddenly lively womb,
but here I am, expecting...
I am expecting her
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