I wrote this while drunk #2

What more could I ask but for the unsealing of the everflowing waters of my love for you? What can I tell you that many poets have spoken of many eons before? I speak nothing but broken glass and fragments that foolish man parades themselves upon. I want to give you the fruits thereof my tears for you. The tears of my joy and pain be my food as I flourish before you my love, my peace, my forever. What more could I give you than the fullness of my eternity? That is all that I am. I care not for these things of the world. They give me no joy. And if I ever did enjoy them, it is because of the love I felt for those behind the walls that I ever so tried to breach. I cannot stand this existence as I try to speak to those who die before me. Who throw the truth of their existence before men to taunt them into a life of nothingness. I am sickened. Truly… As it feels wonderful to finally be able to unseal my hands and write once more, I feel nothingness as I simply repeat the same words as I said as a child, yet more “refined”. I care not. I never cared. I only loved.