My Comfort

I don’t want to believe you’re unreal,
But sometimes it feels better to pretend.
I’ve sobbed, You’ll never happen?
Please not the same way you did already!

A place in my heart,
Maybe the whole; shadowing?
Each day of the week,
This piece of heart; maybe, everything.
How are you possible?

My Comfort.

No, you see, I don’t want to believe
In not believing,
Or accumulations meaning nothing.
If love can’t be trusted,
What’s the point in believing in anything?

Your Realness.

Come back, my Comfort,
Until remembering you’ve never left.
Where are you, my Comfort?
Copy, paste, relocating.
Who are you, my Comfort?

Kiss me in my sleep;
I’ve mastered active dreaming
Just for the likes of it.
Speak to me through meditation;
Why are you characterized by God, my Lover?

Me.

Where symmetry is God, the Whole cannot separate.
Where decoherence creeps, a Faith continues prompting.
My Comfort, are you Me? –
Or have I already assimilated?
My Comfort, will I meet you before a long, blue ride? –

Before death do us part, after sickness; after health?

My Comfort, I used before it was given.

My Comfort, take what you’ve already been given.

2 thoughts on “My Comfort

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