'Til the pipes are filled with cement,
'til I remember the truth
that I don't ever have to forget.
'Til I finally win you over--
and my voice no longer shakes
when I'm standing
between what was,
what is,
what could possibly be.
This isn't a question.
Not a suggestion.
Take with you what resonates--
leave the rest to the flames.
To the witches in Salem.
To the one who split me open
and rearranged me chemically
until I exploded.
Reduced to floating elements.
Combination: deadly.
Like the seven sins--in reverse.
Alchemy.
The dryer balls won't stop banging.
And I hate the silence with other people--
because the static fumes
override every truth
I'm trying to receive.
Math genius.
Problem to solution.
Logic that can't be explained.
Feelings you still need to name.
Your voice--
it's time to claim.
You're magnetism--
so insane
the moon gets jealous.
But she's still bright too.
Just in a different way.
Just in a different light.
Just in a different phase.
Where loving someone
doesn't give them any right.
There are no VIPs in my world.
Just humans.
Just grace.
I can't shower when I'm alone.
The sounds don't make sense.
But that's the crazy thing about all of this--
you'll feel it before I say it.
Won't acknowledge your birth--
I'll happy belate it.
Because you were born
in other lifetimes.
This?
Just one version of her.
Upgraded.
To hold space.
To bite my tongue
until it aches.
My lesson?
Integration.
Decoding the truth.
Shedding light on the hidden things.
Where The Wild Things Are came true.
And IT bangs on the walls--
must be getting hungry.
I went from nothing to something.
January 5th, to be exact.
You bit my sandwich
and took a chunk from my heart--
pieces I'll never get back.
But I don't want receipts.
Or a love that's mine to keep.
I want a lullaby.
A Bluetooth sync.
Something quiet.
Something real.
Something known
before it's spoken.
IV. Wonderland Is On
They ask me:
"What would you do if the effort never paid off?"
Next lifetime,
I'd try again.
Simple.
Failure?
Never an option.
A timeline glitch,
not a destination.
Worrying about others?
Not a topic.
We don't do small talk here.
Only soul-code nonsense
and poetry that burns clean.
Not the weather--
The sun is up.
The sun is down.
The moon? She's watching.
Always has been.
The merry-go-round
spins
spuns
spelled us dizzy
and called it growth.
The Mad Hatter's laughing.
Alice stopped asking.
And me?
I'm cueing the lights.
Setting the stage.
Hitting record.
Because Wonderland is on.
Right now.
And we're all late
for something sacred.
The final truth.
Let it sink in.
Let it sink you.
The bottom line--
translucent to blue.
Like drowning in clarity.
One lifetime to live.
One theory disproved.
Majority vote wins.
But one voice
still
fills
the room.
Rescue mission to save Persephone
Not a ride or die, just hell and back
Over and over repeating history
The full code we never got back
The inevitable--
asystole.
A stillness no code can crack.
whispers in the walls
"You'll float too"
LyssDymension
