While Listening To ‘It’s You’

A Poet’s Chance - 1am & 3 Hour Drive (10.25.20)

The second verse AND how he sings it... and how it feels while i listen to it rn (after watching a 25min doc how this song was made - Netflix) and after that feeling, that all-ness in my chest we all call our heart (the idea)...

and the sensation like drinking ice cold water after having a peppermint... or breathing in freezing air while not dressed for the weather and its like with each breath you can feel your entire respiratory system... but, place that feeling in your heart (the idea) and feeling the gap, the hole in the all-ness... and feeling it whistle as your breathing cadence slows and deepens and swells as you sense it... the missing…

Its space

Its empty volume

And the phantom feelings faintly teasing, haunting, ghosts of what was... what I used to be able to and did feel

... the thoughts ... they echo like questions ... with no response, just these feelings, imaginings, swells and hollow whistles…

And the song repeats, again

I’ve lost track of how many times, because I set it, intentionally to repeat... and trap me here…

Because I felt it... i feel it... and morbidly am too excited to feel the

All-ness of my heart (the idea) again... that i am sorrowfully enjoying

The cold air exposing the hole, the missing, the empty space of me.

-Pati3ntWo1f (102520)

To the present day “Joanna”s:

On behalf of those with your ear and not your attention; towards the benefit of those with your attention and its spoils; for your health and happiness; because of our unheard desires: see thyself as those with your ear do -beautifully badass. Let not your heart wander so far as you to forget that... for those with your ear turn to whispers the farther away you drift, and those whose possess your attention are not promised to be attentive.

Don’t lose sight of yourself; nobody in this world is worth you losing your shit. There’s no reason to act jealous, be possessive, and allow yourself to become sad and desperate. If someone doesn’t like you, who fucking cares? Find one who does. If your significant other makes you feel like shit — they’re fucking shit — bury them in a sandbox, forget about ‘em, and move on. Don’t be like Joanna of Castile. Don’t ruin your life and your reputation with insecure obsession . . . Born in 1479, Joanna (Spanish spelling, “Juana”) was the third child of Queen Isabella of Castile and King Ferdinand II of Aragon. But this royal privilege didn’t stop her from working hard to improve herself. As a young woman, she spoke six languages, excelled in religious studies, was active in equestrian sports, played music, and could dance with the best of them. Plain and simple, Joanna was a fucking badass. She was smart AND beautiful; this obviously attracted the attention of men. And, in 1496, she married Philip of Habsburg, also known as “Philip the Handsome.” Seriously, the dude’s nickname was PHILIP THE HANDSOME — are you fucking kidding me? He must have looked like Idris Elba and Ryan Gosling had a baby the height of Dwayne The Rock Johnson. My point, even Philip’s handsome ass wasn’t worth “losing it." But, Joanna couldn’t resist, she let her imagination get the best of her and became paranoid that he was going to cheat. Her insecurities intensified and her mental instability grew evermore apparent around the kingdom. She was like a fucking vulture, constantly swarming over Philip, checking his iPhone, and demanding his email passwords. Needless to say, it was sad to watch. She was once such a smart, intelligent, confident woman. Not even Philip’s surprise death in 1506 quelled her insecurities. She wouldn’t allow nuns to approach his corpse before his burial — afraid he’d put his ghost boner in one of them. In the end, Joanna of Castile became known as “Joanna the Mad,” leaving behind a reputation of being pathetically jealous, instead of beautifully badass. Well, you just learned some fucking history. You’re welcome. Now, enjoy your Sunday, you beautiful idiots. #SUNDAYSCHOOL

Employed (unfin)

Could you imagine if i got payed to think about you? Punching the clock and Putting in overtime till my body collapses, then recoup. Earn a promotion from Imagining to Listening to you. Not a word, just observe and learn your truths, study your flukes, research your muses and play witness to your beauties...

Could you imagine if i got not noticed by you... the CEO, President, CFO, Sole Proprietor, Founder, Goddess, My Queen? Elevated from Listening to Consulting... working towards Sharing, but right now i must prune and harvest and glean the cropping seeds of my own soul’s soil, in hopes that the fruits i bare become more than enough for me, and begin to be enough for us.

Could you imagine, now that I’m Allowed to insert opinion, i earn acceptance via my quality, not my frequency.... - unfinished

-Pati3ntWo1f (10132019)

Crazed

I'm crazed by how the thought of you overwhelms my immediately/ and expodiciously exposes my vulnerability exceedingly/ needing this fix, shock, wake up call/ to awaken my ability to be enthralled/ shock becomes awe as numb becomes dumb/ to the sensation that mundane can make ones sensation become/ u conquered (my defenses) I saw (felt u while senseless) we came (and climax consistent)/ forever changed (ever-present and persistent)/ for I thought and dreamed and knew you/ I wished and believed and knew you/ I doubted and denied, coward and lied to myself in the face of your truth/ knowledge of you is spiritual, protecting you is ritual/ wanting you is now habitual, as the idea of living without you is minescule/

-Pati3ntWo1f

“I feed my angels and my demons. Set them at a table before me and we all feast. Each flashing tooth and fang and clawing for their choice morsels to be selfishly consumed. It's interesting how often their influence subsides and their interests change and move on, once they’ve sampled what they desire. I am slave to no vice. Our satisfactions and displeasures will forever change. See, the awakening I’ve come to is this… my angels, my demons, they are MINE. So I nurture them and discipline them the same, as though pets or subservient subjects to my Mastery and Sovereignty.” - Pati3ntWo1f

Cray… how a few typed words spark anticipation’s all-be-it accepted agony

I’m feeling her shadow

Again…

Anticipation is blind to Surprise and on sight, I was

Brain willing my body to “be cool. Be cool. Ice cold.”

While My heart beat accelerates “0 to 100 real quick”

I no longer break eye contact for your preference but for my own… prescription, to dull the extent of my vulnerability

Already lost in time, and dismay - 100% felt, 0% displayed… i should know better

The words thought for me are empty aught to be. Actions prove accordingly. Always have and will always be. If its not Mutual than there’s no Treason… yet myWants needs no Reason… to keep believing, my hopeless dreaming

Ripping the bandaid I walk away to step outside and see the sky acting as my eyes cannot. But feel as they could.

Its not sadness. Nah… it is. But its not, tho. It not the outcome drives my eyes to envy the sky right now…

It is my fault, my fallacy, my fiction… It is

The excess of my excessiveness…

Of these feelings.

-pati3ntwo1f (032822)

Let him be the first...

That you tell how you feel, honestly and completely... the sweet and the salty...

A number have wanted to hear you speak that freely, from a place they believe exists within you and they admire, are astonished by, fantasize about...

It is something each of them, directly, indirectly, wishingly and/or needingly sought/seek from you... a confirmation, a correction, an acknowledgement, an expression of...

That...

That culmination of your beauties, that sounding of your intentions grander than themselves, that display of your alluring mysteries, that momentum of your irresistiblities...

That unpronouncable word pronounced only by a bookay of emotions blooming in sync...

That familar song only heard in the vacuum of one’s chest that was once occupied by the air that pressure sealed my vulnerability, cadenced by the upbeat rythm my heart is now beating as i am faced to admit how you’ve captured me...

That unearthly draw, as though my purest joy is now a body of water that i bathe in, fearless of its endless depths, awaiting day to turn night to day - but not for the apppeal of the sun of the colors of the sky... but for the movement of, the tiding of my joys - atuned to your gravitaional pull on my world...

My...

I mean, Their...

I should stop while I am ahead. But know, there is more to the point.

-Pati3ntWo1f (07202020)

My Pleasure, My Joy

Experiencing you is my Pleasure

Pleasuring you is my Joy

I wanna feel what else you can do to me... and return the sensation 3 fold

I wanna lose track of time and space and being,by being with you... and just become something else, together

I want your heart beating against mine; your lips amidst my own; your arms and legs enveloping me; your ass in my hands...

Your passion riding the tip of my tongue; your imagination balancing on the tips of my fingers, awaiting your command... I wanna be inside your endless intimacy

I want Lust to flow freely, but have no taste, because greater emotions overwhelm our palate

Mmmm... gimme you, please

I wanna incite a confirmation for each thought i have ever thought of you... via your undressing kiss, your clutching hold, your magnetic intensity, and/or your sensual whisper

I wanna learn you in ways you didn’t know you can be learned... and purposefully exploit that knowledge for your agreed benefit

I want our intimacy to be the ultimate antidote against anything this life can bring... and be the only elixer i get drunken off of... and be as spectacularly nourishable as miracles of multiplying fish and bread... and as promising as a land of milk and honey

-Pati3ntWo1f (11262019)

The thoughts that explode like thunder and crackle down paths of thoroughness as meticulous and effortless and natural as lightning’s dance…

Our heat generates wind in this cold world, thus storms follow… however they are often misunderstood… for what is of nature is of nurture… and our innate nature is to nurture.

And we do… boldly, bravely, beautifully, bountifully…

Brutally…

Not in violence but sacrifice.

Cost is simply a question of what one is willing to give and …

I Give All To and For My Muse;

Thus we breeze and bellow and blow houses down, we mist and sprinkle and rain and pour and flash flood, we warm and bathe and tan and bake and scorch and smolder…

We still and babble and flow and splash and whirl and current and rapid and waterfall…

We speak without words and converse without hearing… we’ve evolved communication to a beyond, and then back to simplicity.

Seeing you was a novel with no title or chapters or page numbers or order - just worlds of words already known, and attachments of “if spoken or not”; welcoming me to unravel - now - what i’ve already know and grown to love…

Hearing you is the life of the imaginative mind, well prompted and eager to delve, connect, betroth, and ascend, … explorative and fanciful, detailed and connotative, genuine and beholding… our amplify, our soundtrack, our praise, our outcry, expression, our honesty, our pleasure…

Inhaling the nostalgia of times felt, but not readily known, the total body calming recognition of your essential bodily oils scent… the riveting, compelling, memorable, convincing, time bending accelerant that is “smells of you”… its welcoming, identity, intoxicating influence on all my other senses, its air - its 2nd to oxygen… its mix-ability, how it blends, transforms, transfixes with mine… how it evolves, elicits, enthralls and enchants as “ode de OURS”…

And Our Touch, our… feel, our gateway, our ascension, our vehicle, transponder, in-tune-ment, enhancement, limiter that we’ve made limitless - taking the most finite, transfixed, selfish of senses… and making it a vessel to the lost infinite, complimentary thus encompassing, selfless of the senses… our literal connection that bridges my energy to yours… and then we… hmmm… light up the sky and more…

Yet and still… tasting you is foreign and distant, reminiscent from your scent and vouched for by your touch and encouraged by the sight of you.. and although hearing falls deaf with pre-influence, it resounds and reverberates to be used as the result of… of my insatiability with tasting all of you…

Betwixt each kiss and lingering with each lick, enough within each suck and… Mmmmmm… sorry. Confidence within my Assurance is now lesser than the Eagerness propelling my Performance… my lightning dance, my natural nurture of you and us, my sacrifice, my smolder, my splash, my spoken or not, my outcry, my mix-ability, my energy to yours… the my in “Us”, the my in “Ours”, the my in “for you”…

And “We” still seem to exceed these enhanced basics, these connected selfishnesses, these overwhelming urges to reconnect and exist as we are… together & beyond

As…

We…

Are!

- Pati3ntWo1f (011122)

“The magic of your waters... sweet and refreshing. The majesties of the wonderland that is your body, its valleys and peaks... breath-taking. The twinkle in your eyes, tempting me to look deeper and longer into the universe behind your eyes... mystifying. And i know this place is home... because that moon - same moon that’s in your sky - glows in my memories and dreams.” -Pati3ntWo1f

Thanx @geyashvecova for the inspiration!

Design graphics Geya Shvecova (Neon Arctic Ice_211019)