Guilty

I’m not a perfect creature; I mistakenly care too much. I’m the disembodied voice in life, with the cataclysmic touch.

For years I have walked this earth, edified by many who’ve been and gone. I’ve been hustled, I’ve been played and good Lord have I been torn. 

I will not preach and I do not judge, although far too many do. For many things I am guilty, one is hopelessly loving you. 

I do not believe in perfection, for it’s an inflated morons myth. Your translucent eyes shift and pull, like the waves that fight a cliff. 

And I fell… right into you. 

I will never be the holy grail, the fucking saint within a church. I’m imperfect, sporadic and as flawed as hell. All of these and more you’ll find, need all you do is search. 

If falling in love with you is forbidden, throw a noose and let me pay my dues. Fuck your cosmetic shades, and your impossibly complicated views.

You’ll never find a love quite as pure, yet so dangerously tainted. I’m selfish, so selfish… On death row I’d take you with me, even against your protests. Guilty as sin, ruled the plaintiff. 

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