Destination: Irrelevant Host

The parasite here is me.

As I was seeking refuge, poison began to enter my blood. This intoxicating substance commanded an addiction that I withdrew from daily. I found myself longing for more as I began to suffocate within the existence. Entering every bit of my being was its only destiny. I began finding myself appalled by the fact that I was an at moments thrill. I hadn't any idea that surviving this blow was going to be this difficult.

Forgive me for I am sin.

I was built this way. Designed for speed, agility, and grace.

Forgive me Michael for I am sin. Preserved for battle, designed to win.
Collect those prints that allow dimension and skill. Haste one not to lust, I pursue his own will.
It's tragic really, to find weakness in ones heat; waste not to conceal, this warmth is to sweet.

Forgive me Michael for I am sin. Preserved for battle, designed to win.
It's more then a passion, a habit, or skill. It's a desirable feeling that I often must fill.
It's messy, unmarked, unclean, and mapped. But it's the expression inside that often feels trapped.
I hurt for some time, but I feel quite new. I've now mastered the art and am not quite threw.

Forgive me Michael for I am sin. Preserved for battle, designed to win.
I am laughing at thought, the kind that must pass. Missing myself, the one that had class.
I want capture, security, I want longevity and heat. I need disassociate peers and a lover that's sweet.

Forgive me Michael for I am sin. Preserved for battle, designed to win.
There once was a person that I put away. She was devious, unmarked, and knew how to sway. She was beautiful and kept, and seemed to rule center stage. But she had such a dark side, seemed ruled by rage. I loved how she lingered in thought and found peace in mortality, but was fearful of that smoothness and lack of humanity.

Forgive me Michael for I am sin. Preserved for battle, designed to win.

Hesitant waste: I am hunting.

I am foreign, blocked, and untraveled.

I feel crucified and left inpatient; waiting for justice. It takes almost every ounce of my decency to not annihilate what I once loved.

Believe me, this is going to hurt you more than me.

"Hurt myself again today, and the worst part is there's no one else to blame."

Our opinions change. Our thoughts - become a bit more unpure. And our vessels shrink - only to dialate to new beauty.

Designed for heat

"Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the lord, my soul to keep. If I die before I wake, I pray the lord my soul will take. Amen." -Child's prayer.

Curiosity drives me into the tile. Pressure entices me to feel. It's the part where I am to inhale, but I won't.

I am no longer running toward you.

For you, now must make haste. There is no imagination here. Only sensibility. And it wasn't I that lost, it is you. And as the sun makes way to arise with you -  as will your shame.

I am resilient. Designed for longevity and heat. Before me I pay respect to memory, lesson, infidelity, and stillness.

Contaminating my ego

Instability refreshes my maker. With his blue print, he must of overlooked my fate. His design clearly resembled a flawless victory, however: as with any great immortality, comes regeneration. Forgiveness, complexity, haste, and endurance tip toed his mind, but his generosity forced edge and reason.

I am humble. Troubled. Blessed. And mangled. Behind beauty is tact, and behind tact lay intelligence. Partnering with intelligence is sin, aggression, and determination.

I am in love. Flattered. And toying with the idea of manifesting what I want.

And if you love me, then set aside everything that is stopping you from feeling me.