Tell me sweet junk and blow my mind
It's a treasure I hope to find
Can hunt for it while blind
To savour the thrill of the find
O! Tell me again some sweet junk!
But in life, I talk about boundaries,
To know the lines that we can't cross
People may be helpful, but for real,
Their silence doesn't mean feel free!
Remind me again some sweet junk,
All those whispered nonsense we can't forget
The love that friendship begets
And a life without any regrets
But we draw the lines at boundaries
Lest we put a strain on friendship
A long way from the trenches
But at a point, elastic stops stretching
But whisper again some sweet junk
Let me again meditate like a monk
On these words that remain like skunk's,
O, remind me again some sweet junk!
© el-iyanu
This write is actually a combination of two topics threaded into one. For me personally, I'm a huge fan of boundaries, as much as I love freedom in relations, but I expect people to know their bounds. The subject of boundaries comes up with me regularly. I've come to realise that some people have no boundaries on themselves, so they impose their lack of restrictions on you, and if you're not careful, you begin to endure a sorry existence, and get madder when they push you yet another extra mile against your wishes. But, perhaps, it's time to take a stand, no matter how silently you speak, no matter how quietly you draw. Even if they don't hear, at least, you'll know you drew the lines. If they watch carefully, they'll observe the fine print.
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