Chronic lady

Chronic lady

I am in love again and this time it’s real. Yes! I am excited. The last time I was in love, I was frustrated by it, I didn’t know what to do, I was overcome and overwhelmed with emotions I didn’t understand. I didn’t have control over my mind, I just felt so vulnerable and exposed. But this time, damn I could touch the sky. I could fly like Superman and tap dance on the moon. I feel lighter on my feet. Mr. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. She cast a spell on me, she bewitched me and I am okay with it. I am at ease with it. I am relieved, happy, and in love like a fool. Struck by Cupids multiple arrows. Hallucinating on a love trip that’s more potent than DMT, the spirit molecule. Thinking about her makes me creative, she is a great work of art. I am attracted to her like the opposite pole of a magnet. Animal magnetism, she reels me in like a fisherman and I am the fish hopelessly attached to the hook. I sometimes have nightmares about losing creativity but now I am saved, redeemed from my subconscious mind. She is my lifeboat, my life-saver. I now understand the concept of love. To show your scars and weaknesses and have somebody accept you for everything you are. To build a sustainable life and future with that person, to share your life, to grow old together, to plan, have children. It is liberating. It validates existence. It gives you peace. It is purpose. She is truly something special. Absolutely beautiful too. Great smile, it radiates and spreads all over existence like the sun’s rays. I realized that I was in love when I was in denial. I was terrified of my own feelings, terrified of what they meant. I tried to surpress this girl in my mind but she keeps popping up like a jack in the box. She roams around in my mind slowly and with great stealth like a thief in the night. She is always at the back of my mind like a shadow. I am so gone. I have no chance. I have no defense for her wit and overall personality. Like Usher, I am so caught up and these are my confessions. It’s been a long time coming, everyone cracks under sustained pressure. Man, I am in love with her, she treats me well. The energy is good and I am addicted to her like sugar, she gives me a rush! If I could, I would treat her well. My meaning in this world would be derived from that. After all, man has a subconscious urge to please woman, it’s in his DNA, it’s all he is. If a woman can’t motivate you, what can? In a cold world where nothing really matters and nobody really cares, she cares. She is warm and nourishing like body butter. That’s deep, like the dead sea salt in Israel, she exfoliates my soul, purifies my pores from within. I feel blessed. I am in love. In love with everything she is, I am infatuated. She is perfect. The best woman in the world. My African woman. Thinking about her makes me feel numb and carefree, like a sort of high you get from smoking chronic. I am not tripping, she is kind hearted, intelligent and special. She makes me feel at peace like graveyards in suburbs, she is my “Coco” the love of my life and I hope she always remembers me or my soul will perish forever. She is my medication, she makes me high of life, my chronic lady.