Something so sweet.

Resides inside of me. 

I want you to know. But it will not escape me. 

It's a secret of mine. 

Something sublime. 

I can't let it go though. 

Though it escapes me and takes me and engulfs me in its sucrose. 

Please let me share it. Please let it free.

But no it's not safe out there. 

My secret. 

My secret. 

But what if I let it go. 

Will it be free? Will it be as sweet?

The fruit. The nectar. Ambrosia. The fiend.

It wants to leave but I must encage it for its longevity. 

When a covert datum wants to spread. When a minuscule flea wants to infect. 

Help me I can't let it be. It's inside. It is me. 

Sweet. Free. Me. 

I can't be. I can't see. 

It has taken over what use to be an entity. 

She, my secret, will never be safe when the other exists. 

The other who knows she. The she that resides in me. 

Protect it, I must.

What choice do I have? It's for her safety.

So She comes to me and takes her sharp cutting edge and slides it across my nape to my nipple? 

She is the other now.

The other is she. 

She lives for an eternity. 

There is a vast difference between a foe and a friend.

Being in the comfort of your home with no voyeur, no peep.

A time to decompress, relax, and evolve.

To understand Yourself, himself, herself, themselves who you are and how you came to be.

But being in that house is a tragedy if the door is locked.

The inside or out.

Let me in let me out... but there is no one to hear your plea.

Can You let me be?

But if there is no You, how can you know a Me?

The difference is between doors and keys.

Is the door boarded up? Or are You pushing against it? Against Me?

You and Me. An irony.

I am alone. But Me, You make me lonely.

Purple, Green,

Colors that seem so far apart. On other ends of the spectrum. 

In conglomeration, 

Our reality is nothing more than a fragile fantasy, 

Contrasting wild, Deep cleansing our souls of you and me, 

Purple swims with green mixing and spinning,

A beautiful collage,

But the merging is sinking, Purple tries to take Green,

And wins.

Purple. Green.

Purple never wanted to take Green. 

It's just inevitability. 

Is a win a win when you lose a friend from this ferocity. 

Purple is sick with a Brown that takes over. 

Filled with hatred not for Green but for itself. 

She laughed.

The crevices in her arm oozed with the red paste as pathetic reassurances failed to comfort her.

She laughed.

The blade kept entering and leaving her arm. It could not be stopped.

She laughed.

Her face cold. But the panic, the mania, forever sealed in

A laugh.