I wrestle with discipline
I wrestle not because I don’t want it,
I wrestle because I desire it but don’t know how to keep it,
I wish I could tame it because taming it tames me
The flow is a wind shifting in seasons,
I can enjoy the wind,
Yet, I must sow, and reap in order to live
Creation is a blessing and a curse,
A blessing because the height of emotion is an orgasm steeping the very marrow of the bone,
A curse because it can be fickle beast, no matter if you summon it with the same rituals,
The same incantations,
The same rites,
It can still remain hidden or sleep.
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