Lo my chariot awaits to bring me to my love.
Something about the cold hard tight grip on the wrists reminded me of a promise you made me before there was light.
Before there were names for these things and the calling of the ugly sister.
In a place where we were all beautiful like angels and not one pointed out another as less than.
There was no competition and genetic beauty? Well it was something called a trade.
As in if you make my son the swiftest I will give your daughter a wee little dot on her face and we shall call it a beauty MARK.
Well you name your son Mark and I will give him a lazy left eye that everyone will notice.
And I will give your daughters lots of marks on their face and we will call them moles not beautiful at all. And how about a limp? A crooked face? Crooked teeth? I know, put your hair from my son's body on a beard for your daughter!
Well if you're going to do that, then your son shall be a dwarf!
Bahahahahaha! What a plan! And so it was and so it were as generations passed there was but one woman who could see the truth in these matters...for she could see in realms hidden since eternity, since the time of all beauty and no comparisons, of what it meant to whether be a beautiful chameleon or a horny toad.
No definition of ugly really. And she could see the generational morphing of faces before her very eyes.
Not everything it seems is as it seems. And much like "if you are gonna do that to my son...I am gonna put it on your daughter's face."
And so I was there in the cop car and you were singing me a song...we were both on the radio airwaves ..it was calming me down because I was so enraged at the thought of abortion.
You were in my mirror in my mind like a twin. It was all set up. Because I was the one where the love had been hidden...like all the love generated since time began and we hid it back then...much as a slave would try to hide their own baby.
We hid the genetic coding for black veins, black skin, black hair, brown eyes and paired it with my blue veins, white skin, blonde hair and blue eyes. We traded skin colors for all sorts of physical anomalies that would make people seem "less than."
We said I would feel all pain in my "psychology" where no one could see it. We said you would feel pain in young life taken. We said we would know well what we were capable of and be matched since the dawn of time! Because we were! We were in the same cell!
We hid the memory in chariot. ..a cop car. Because if my sons will feel this pain your daughters will feel it too.
But like I said this all happened before there were words for anything.
And here I am on the internet in 2018...
And as an echo may go back wards ...the end goes to the beginning to the end and we kiss souls in the cop car as I am dropped off to the hospital.
I think I am going to meet you. That the faces changing means we are soon to see each other and wed in heaven.
The hair I so loved on Adam. Black. Curly tenacious hair. A clue.
In the hospital 2013 thinking I was marrying someone whether you or Adam was a surprise. Adam was a soul sequence off. I got that from my dreams.
The cop car time machine. The echo. The blending of skin through blood draws.. literally seeing my freckles dissolve and disperse through my skin. Melting us into one soul color.
The end is the beginning is the end, a loop. The medical field...pissing in cups, name bands. Everything in order. I go there now just to find you.. just to see if what I do makes the crossover happen???
I walk in old and come out a baby in the Billings Clinic since 1996. I'm trading places or circumstances with other humans.
Nothing of it, im just bipolar right?
I dream of you Jacob Shelby Black.
Black hair and a traded name for the color of my skin.
Don't make me the Black Widow!!!
You were freaking driving the cop car the last time and I know it!
It's time and this is freaking amazing and all I am is bipolar...oh wait there is no word for a mind split into two realms?
Hmm.. maybe it's cause it doesn't exist!
My hair is falling out! Should I go to the ER?
Soul swap. Bipolar out.
Call me Miranda Black please! And I will take an ER milkshake with my burger and fries! Booyah who's your smart soul mate! Lol.
Miranda Black!
Something about the cold hard tight grip on the wrists reminded me of a promise you made me before there was light.
Before there were names for these things and the calling of the ugly sister.
In a place where we were all beautiful like angels and not one pointed out another as less than.
There was no competition and genetic beauty? Well it was something called a trade.
As in if you make my son the swiftest I will give your daughter a wee little dot on her face and we shall call it a beauty MARK.
Well you name your son Mark and I will give him a lazy left eye that everyone will notice.
And I will give your daughters lots of marks on their face and we will call them moles not beautiful at all. And how about a limp? A crooked face? Crooked teeth? I know, put your hair from my son's body on a beard for your daughter!
Well if you're going to do that, then your son shall be a dwarf!
Bahahahahaha! What a plan! And so it was and so it were as generations passed there was but one woman who could see the truth in these matters...for she could see in realms hidden since eternity, since the time of all beauty and no comparisons, of what it meant to whether be a beautiful chameleon or a horny toad.
No definition of ugly really. And she could see the generational morphing of faces before her very eyes.
Not everything it seems is as it seems. And much like "if you are gonna do that to my son...I am gonna put it on your daughter's face."
And so I was there in the cop car and you were singing me a song...we were both on the radio airwaves ..it was calming me down because I was so enraged at the thought of abortion.
You were in my mirror in my mind like a twin. It was all set up. Because I was the one where the love had been hidden...like all the love generated since time began and we hid it back then...much as a slave would try to hide their own baby.
We hid the genetic coding for black veins, black skin, black hair, brown eyes and paired it with my blue veins, white skin, blonde hair and blue eyes. We traded skin colors for all sorts of physical anomalies that would make people seem "less than."
We said I would feel all pain in my "psychology" where no one could see it. We said you would feel pain in young life taken. We said we would know well what we were capable of and be matched since the dawn of time! Because we were! We were in the same cell!
We hid the memory in chariot. ..a cop car. Because if my sons will feel this pain your daughters will feel it too.
But like I said this all happened before there were words for anything.
And here I am on the internet in 2018...
And as an echo may go back wards ...the end goes to the beginning to the end and we kiss souls in the cop car as I am dropped off to the hospital.
I think I am going to meet you. That the faces changing means we are soon to see each other and wed in heaven.
The hair I so loved on Adam. Black. Curly tenacious hair. A clue.
In the hospital 2013 thinking I was marrying someone whether you or Adam was a surprise. Adam was a soul sequence off. I got that from my dreams.
The cop car time machine. The echo. The blending of skin through blood draws.. literally seeing my freckles dissolve and disperse through my skin. Melting us into one soul color.
The end is the beginning is the end, a loop. The medical field...pissing in cups, name bands. Everything in order. I go there now just to find you.. just to see if what I do makes the crossover happen???
I walk in old and come out a baby in the Billings Clinic since 1996. I'm trading places or circumstances with other humans.
Nothing of it, im just bipolar right?
I dream of you Jacob Shelby Black.
Black hair and a traded name for the color of my skin.
Don't make me the Black Widow!!!
You were freaking driving the cop car the last time and I know it!
It's time and this is freaking amazing and all I am is bipolar...oh wait there is no word for a mind split into two realms?
Hmm.. maybe it's cause it doesn't exist!
My hair is falling out! Should I go to the ER?
Soul swap. Bipolar out.
Call me Miranda Black please! And I will take an ER milkshake with my burger and fries! Booyah who's your smart soul mate! Lol.
Miranda Black!
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