The actions of my past can not be rewritten, or edited for a digital remaster that can be viewed as a memory.
Your tape of us is no more than I can view as it can’t be dictated in commentary of the past as you see it.
My actions can’t be viewed and explained by just the reaction,
the consequence as well as how it was dealt when the impact of feeling was applied and those latent days can nor be denied as if they were not applied to that which was the present and now the future has been met.
Yet the judgement of those mistakes have been tried and documented as the past vs the present and while you get to refer to the judge, who is shown as you.
I am at the mercy of the court for I am still a defendent. Still at the point of guilty for innocence is at your discretion and as much as the woman in me wants to understand and be brave enough to help you to see the vision of forgiveness.
I must not lead any witness as I stand in arguments for myself, this court has NO true litigators.
Yet as the prosecuting side of this love’s judge and jury, I find that we have not prayed, and not fell to our knees in a humbling stance of understanding not just to God.
No we must humble ourselves to the eyes of the one that we allowed ourselves to be naked to, seeing flaws and imperfections with trust.
The pedestal in which I occupied at the days of beginning tells me that the judge is present here for the humanity of us, for this was just a speculation of love that is just infatuation.
The difference in me from the last, means not that I am AlSO not a victim to a past, for it was how at first I looked at you, with eyes of settling out for just good.
These hearts not vastly different from a gang bangers hood, violating the rules of the land outside the vision accepted,
understanding less than objective,
fear leveled at high but disguised as defense
, when bravery is the journey outside of what can not be pre-determined or trusted,
trust is an earned income from the fiends of emotional connectivity.
We are inside the doors of comfort and reliable distance of pain resistance.
Can’t live in this small area of love for sure to not go sour,
the days to short and in the present pass like hours, sometimes even minutes.
Must be willing to be a warrior for the enchanted the passionate the unseen, and exceptional,
my infraction not intentional.
Yet the severity is not at the level of a felony, it was an old melody that caused me to react in a way of the not in total sincere,
I still some days operate in fear,
the devil has done his bidding and succeeding in his quest, allowed the expectation to create a test,
that could not be passed without the luxury of time and time spent,
so it would appear as if the woman you met, has taken a quick left and abandoned the connection,
yet if under greater inspection…
you take the time to look…
the things you loved, the way I cook, the way I speak, the loyalty and attention to detail, are things of me you with open eyes so easy see,
is still the woman who shared the good not yet time for the bad.
It does not negate the times had and the bond created, the one we share,
yet the expectation you held that after so little time I allude is just not fair.
We might have been a great pair, yet the gamble was a short sale bet and the odds fair out of reach..
so we must label this a lesson to teach, instead of a breach to the truth shared
, or the last of whom you compared.
If we have the faith to forgive and the love to embrace,
so many times love we would not chase.
It is not my place or in my character to beg, my ego is full of pride, and if I had the courage to confide,
why did not have the strength to understand, or the self control to demand something of me in which I must demand of myself.
I appreciate the passion in which you believe.
Yet I meant not to deceive the impression made of me on your heart.
Yet in the willingness of this court to impart this judgement of me,
the heart can not be judged at the court of humanity, it would be insanity, to prove the intention of my action.
No witness could explain the drive, the desire, the fire, the control.
I require an impartial judge and the only one in court today is you.
You as the prosecution and the judge as well as the jury,
leaves me at a no end, no win, no true trial that would be fair, no one with objective ears to not just listen, yet hear.
our heart is not yet committed to truly read over the evidence submitted,
no glove to fit and acquit.
No DNA to test and match, no extension to be granted.
So instead I must declare this a mistrial.