we can miss out...

fuck it... lets open up... pretending we jus don't give a fuck... hopin relations will remain as good as they begin... never having to riddle a smoke signal from within... clearing the smoke in the heart... giving everything we have not earned n jus play the cards... n when it hurts we can fight... forgetting about the friendship we refuse to despise... we can attempt to tame each other... feeling uncomfortable with the feel of losing yet another luv'r... as goin crazy allows us to act like everyone else hating life... crying at times until the night wind up in an empty room... drifting witht he fact that we jumped to fuckin soon... n to hold on is what we know so it can linger in the unpleasant face... finding a stranger wanting to be free from a friendship never made... lets get it in n rush the force to resent choices in stare irritated once again... goin solo to heal n add another memory lost to the memories unexplained...jus to become more independent claiming the single life is where it's at... having to face the reflection of the lies of the facts... we won't talk as we'd be better off... lost... as bits n pieces are plucked in time... until self truly accepts it's more mental than an emotional front to what actually matters other than the hype... we can choose to plunge if u insist... but it won't end well due to the over emotional change that over rides who we could be if.... as the head shakes... to bury the knowing of immaturity's unstable games... fuck it.... i ain't doin nothin else... unless you'd rather fuck non stop... starting on the outside of the climax's that pop.... not caring of anything but the physical presence... triggering hormones that cannot resist the pleasure before the pain comes back around to finesse the fence... through a creature created by sexuality's course of actions... cutting deeper due to the depths of passion... we can mate without the limits that hide who we are... from the start... starting here n now... staring us in why relations dive into the pits of the pulse not wanting to be found... dead from from the most sacred place within... missing the one that decides what to do when the recognition of self once more lives to grins... when the side is jus had to do away with repetitive motions... as it will be someone else lookin us in our eyes with a better sense of devotion... we can miss out on what we are capable to create... or friends can be made...