hiding out

life is the master of veiled despondence, she gravitates to the perfect image - feeling extreme beauty and anger all at once. I wait for her in the form of a man with some sense of emotional interlude. I suspect that this is waiting for the impossible. in denial. I wait for the one who can show me that there's some reason in all of that pretense. no one I am interested in is ever allowed. at least I've found somewhere I might be able to hide out for a while.