Perchance sonnets aroused anthems from dulcet corner of post-coital idleness; equated to a lark’s resistance of the deeply-rooted…after all, frogs hip-and-hop alike atop levitating lily pads to liven up their routine.
As for me? I’m sitting here with Johnny Appleseed and our illegally-linked devices (a novel way to mind-rape, kids), wondering what in the actual phuck has been going on here for the past two-plus years. And that’s the whole point. My mind could crack a thousand times a million before I could admit that I’m the monster. I’m the monster. I’m the monster. Brainwashed to believe it. Fingers pointing through the screen. Scarlet letters.
Hero, villain, devil, angel, saint, sinner, redeemer, deceiver, scoundrel, sweetheart. Pit of despair. Apex of rapture. Flawed, yet of substance. In need of patience, humility, self-acceptance. You were right about that.
When all’s said & done, I hope your prince(ess) kisses you.
PS – Self-parody is woefully lacking in the entertainment industry. Just pulling my weight to add some diversity to the pile. 😉