a mess

i wonder how much you wonder about how much people wonder about you.
as a matter of fact, did you know that you were fact.
a mirror follows you everywhere because you’re a mirror of god.
by god, god is most certainly a woman.
vengeful for the mess we’ve created.
yet you yourself believe yourself a heap of trash.
absolutely, you are that, indeed that.
matter of lie, we are all that.
i say lie because none of us could ever encompass all.
but god damn it, i can’t wait until the day god damns it and let’s me rot.
i’m sure you’d want me to save a spot for you.
you do not understand what i’m trying to say.
i don’t understand what i’m trying to say.
but read in between the lines and allow my empty thoughts convey
some sort of message.
what am i trying to get across?
i’ve pictured a billion scenarios inside my head in the last few seconds.
i’d take billions of pictures of you and send them to the billions of people across the world and claim that they were presents.
because as messy as we are, you are my gift from god.
again, god is a woman because i see her every time your pupils dilate.
a mess is what we create when we are finished. a mess is what we leave after we climax. a mess is what i desire.
a mess is what are. a mess is what makes up the cosmos.
a mess is everything. a mess is a collection of thoughts and memories that makes life worth living and i hope you become my mess someday.
a mess i would never dare clean up.

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