Desperate for affection

Disconnection what was needed

To time travel post-reflection

Every warning would be heeded

Mourning morning glories seeded

Poisonous, the recollection

Wishing it could be deleted

My completed introspection

I stole a morning glory

Tried to keep her in my sight

But I’m afraid in doing so

I also stole her light

I brought her in to stay with me

She promptly shut up tight

I wished to gift her longer life

Instead gave endless night

Pretty please, oh poetess?

A muse might mend my marred up mind.

A bond that one would never guess

Could ever be the kind I’d find.

Turn into art this tragic mess.

A form and function realigned.

Surrender to the sweet caress.

Still free, however intertwined.

I bet back in high school you went heavy on gymnastics

Emphasis on “mental” when you do those types of backflips

I’ve just gotta say that you’re the cutest little actress

But you’re ruthless

with a rudeness

That knocks me right off my axis

Emulating would be useless

Couldn’t catch up on the practice

It’d be foolish

It’d be fruitless

I could never use your tactics

My heart rests in pieces.

Maybe found, not rebuilt.

The tale-telling ceases,

For you feel no guilt.

Once I caught your pale blue eye,

I could soar.

Then I fell from the sky.

Shattered straight through the floor.

Those pieces lie still.

A trait that you share.

Seems I, too, fit the bill.

I’m not quite all there.

Please leave me sleeping.

My weeping contained.

Subconsciously speaking and keeping things chained.

The daylight starts creeping.

My seeking restrained.

Another dream lost, but the memory gained.

My current thoughts?

Wishful

The ignorance blissful

Hold on when I’m able

Grab love by the fistful

I hoard in my writing

Your pictures

Our texts

Just what are they hiding?

My scriptures

My hex

A liminal space.

Subliminal signs.

A beautiful face shaped as fate relays lines.

The dutiful wake and remake their designs.

Opinions replaced

In once-pinioned minds.

Cannot face you or replace you.

There are times I swear I taste you.

What an awful combination.

Can’t consolidate at all.

Seems it’s terminal to me.

There’s no departure I can see.

I would end upon cessation

At whatever rate I fall.

I know that you’re sick of it

The way I’m a hypocrite

I numb when you numb

A dumdum

A sucker

Our bottles help bottle

Once open, full throttle

My whiskey less risky

Than you drinking pucker