I break and fail, my heart shrinking under the pressure. I am shredded with no rest to rebuild. Yet, I want more, not for the pain, but for the after. For the eventual growth that will occur from the many shavings that I am reduced to. I cannot wait until my being has reached a point where I can function despite my failings well enough for what I am told I cannot have to become plausible. Until I can be deemed worthy despite my imperfections, despite my flaws by both myself, and the implausible desire.

I try to steel myself as I try to assimilate, while attempting to share what parts of me that I can. I long for adaptation, for the growth that comes from the pain.

I long for forgiveness from myself and from the one. For understanding from the implausible and from the inner workings of my own mind. For final acceptance and for true caring.

I try to communicate things correctly, but my words still blunder around the emotions I carry, unable to be understood I withdraw. Accused of abandoning my post beside the one. The one I can’t abandon, not truly, not with the knowledge I have of the things held within the implausible.

I will find a way, I will fight every battle to earn my place there. This I vow, I will not try any longer, implausibility will see. I will do, and the one will know, what I am truly capable of. This lifetime, and the next. I will live the atlas, and the clouds will soar over the one as we stare upon the world of implausibility from the recesses of the hidden.



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