Popsicle Sticks in Paradise

I pursued the moment;
and this in case I state it.
In the ocean-aquatic thoughts of
marine life, I assume no bullying.
There is no pretense to the thought.
A radical new design as if I wasn't
there!
I new radical design of the initiative,
I keep up to me.
Will not my spirit in slowly dying allow?
No serious lapse in judgment: split iron
of vulnerability or being impressionable.
A gross misrepresented relapse.
As my love carries on encouraged by the
enthusiasm or lack thereof.
Through no amount of decay in thought
I let out.
Only in my heart it comes alive.
In this my place of refuge, dreamed of
celery sticks covered with peanut butter.
I'll be there for you.
Not me to limit.
I push to the limit.
Not to test my limits,
but rather I push then pull.
Not in limiting myself.
I will not limit what sets me apart.
A one way street on the freight train coming home.
From day to dark.
Dusk to dawn, non-stop.
Friend of my sunshine.
My safety in daylight to nightfall.
Maturing xenophobia when nothing is improbable,
retains distant memory.
Vying for the affection of an earth-flower
unknown in its time.
Asking to fly with the birds,
in the most promising of prey of worms.
This monster-attitude too small
in a world its unfounded for.
Such fun in the nutrition of love.
I create.
Without, with such I wager my own competition.
That I care to redeem myself .
Sound in my nest of sleep.
I rest.
I feel it in my soul.
I can relax.
My honor is to method.

A dream it feels so alive.
Adrift cast in the shadow of time.
Act - in its history as I've said and done.
A past life.
Maturing in the odyssey.
My truth has been found in it.

Of this I make myself aware,
I am in discovery.

Self-made expressed in my interest of an unbreakable
molded spirit.

I put its strength that altogether in my parts.
Together I resonate from it.
Of a weight in characteristic.
I shall wait.

Decorated in thought the paint, because the paint
does not look bad as dry.
I'll show you what love is in ecstasy without
loneliness.
I'll make it.
Be sure to break the puddle
with a splash.
No misplaced beauty or precautions fear
of anger.
For every premonition I gather spurs my curiosity,
into a revelation of mediocrity.
A revolution in the credentials I have its credibility for.

I keep a watchful eye on my weight in sleep
of which I breath.
I am confident about, that nothing is going to happen.
I have no problem with the love of my broken research.
I have not failed a Rosarch Test to pass.
A crash test dummy strung with bells on the run.

Allergic in response to a sudden tragic end.
A shallow fascination.
Moving parts of a hero in rescue.
Not to be underestimated or undervalued,
as for living in-th-past.

I love the smell of a croissant.
A teasing taste of its delicacy.
I love the sound of music,
NOT 'punching' in my ear.

I feel free more relaxed.
In trying something inspirational,
because I said so.
The target of a truth not required.
My value in full potential,
for a dollar.

I must confess my dreams.
That-naturally my fear is not drawn.
My mother's undying love was born from.
My disorder in chaos.
I live to the.

Take my advice.
I screech like an eagle,
scratch like a monkey,
and soar like a hawk-owl its prey.
My teeth in the shadows not after I bite.
Before I even knew it.

A huge massive sleep without any weight-loss.
An awareness gained.
My addiction for habit,
feeds the king in me.
Capitally in vision.
There is no return to my paranoia.
This only so unreasonably torn am I
engaged in the thought.
A subsequent transformation,
that no one is bigger than am I
to save face in order of its nature's-quest.
Therefore, in obedience I starve at the thought.
There is no transparency in the discrepancy of
romantic-judgement.
My weight in deduction reduced-fear.
An eduacation in guessing.