Prose poetry.
It becomes a part of you, <3
and you see things differently, a nice view.
Wish I knew how to do this from day one; breaking.
Let all this just keep taking,
me away, you make me feel like a King.
I'm fine with being less me,
used to sting a bit like a bee.
Each day we keep connection,
I break a piece of the reflection-
of the me; the individual, the original,
it's mystical.
That I die from inside,
totally fried.
In a good way I disappear,
being more near you, we're like a heart shaped sphere.
Yet, it is a paradox,
like we're trapped in a box.
So deep in love, we're above,
The self, no longer fits - This glove,
is for one hand, not two...
Can I become one with you?
-Youngblood
