She is mine and not yours.

Reality is:
Painful in its words
Powerful in its force
Unimaginable in its belief
Insensitive in its attack
Eye-Opening in its truth
Unforgettable in its honesty
Unforgiving in its heart
Selfish in its love
Unwavering in its jealousy
Independent in its entirety
Conditional in its love

The stuff that both dreams and nightmares are made of.

It is not a good day.

The denial was expected, but the reason?

Independence takes responsibility for actions, yours and others, and not intentions, yours or others.

Tattooing eye-opening statements of truth with a frost more frigid than the Arctic Ridge and just as painful when rigor mortis finally, without remorse, sets in.

It is dead.

Reality, and it's dogma, bit me. Hard. And I will never be the same.

It is a stranger when suffering, spewing foreign words with a native tongue. Power does not wane.

You are conditional.

I am un-.

But MINE is not yours, this much is a cold hard truth. The kind that wakes you from a dream and you realize that you are not in Kansas anymore.

Were you ever?

It is the fear of letting go and re-learning that the seraph does not exist, at least for me...

Promises. Promises.

Broken pieces of the puzzle I used to be.

I am the Phoenix.

Independent. Again. I leaned but a degree in time. That time was not mine. And now I stand. Still.

Straight.

Alone.

And I will never be the same.

Always Love?

Always.

Only now, I can see and I will never close my eyes again.

Reality bites.

Bite me.

For all intents and purposes, fortunate or -un, this is my Life.