• R. E. Maynard

The Emboldened Haze of Blinded Eyes

Shy now for reasons easy to explain, as men have modeled their impressions on proving a smooth criminal reigning over vaulted hearts. Assuming they are sly enough to steal hearts from woman who end up broken from their willingness to bestow. Love blinds us with passions known to inspire hopeful dreams that never do truly become a reality.


In a timeline fraught with hateful emotions to bear after adulterous bidding won over curiosity’s favor, as broken hearts do tally a hefty slate recording every aching reality, truths marked and buried in hearts once fashioned by absolute dishonesty, gain a renewed understanding what constitutes commitment.

The Emboldened Haze of Blinded Eyes

Self-love changed my lifestyle for caring, and I admire women who recognize true discoveries in good men’s likenesses, unlike those false impressions of a bad boy type riddling a lady’s hurtful ties to such awareness. We are but humanly possibilities mistakenly taught by desires, as we all fail to make better choices at times.


I feel distant, stuck in a haze of my own desires, dealing with the consequences of remorseless liars’ eyes. My fellow man ruined the art of attraction, while adhering to the benefits of hopeful satisfactions. Love is a game, played-out by setting bars unimaginably foretelling of one’s hopes for desirable qualities, lessoned by mere chances for finding interests most reliably known to thee adorned. Trust appears lost in every listed detail for relating beyond our lustful needs, which tortures the bleeding hearts of every breakup, as told through rippled puddles fallen from our tearful eyes blinded by pride.


My heart shall remember the emotions that protected such passions grown, still romanticized by a heart worthy of a soulmate’s most simple qualities. As I may never allow the proof of naïveté to not yield love’s deserving nature––love please do consume me greatly. I need only await a woman who feels worthy of happiness over her telling experiences of time loss, as she learns to deal with those trials and tribulations of betrayal.


Together—we shall see clearly through the inevitable hazing that riddles love’s truest sense of belonging to one another’s lives. One day, even a man shamelessly kind-by-default shall dream in an awakening daring reality to be anything less than common arguments ado. Surely, a woman who attends to my most imaginable journey will happily stand by my side forevermore, and likewise, I shall love her for reasons she understands best.

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R. E. Maynard 

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