Nonsense

they rekindle what was once thought lost and stay together despite the betrayal.

from the within the outside i get caught in their vortex observing them wear each day like an old coat. i’m that shiny thing that takes their attention away from routine though like them have a simple routine of my own.

confusing mindfulness with hyper focus i believe that with each exhale a demon is released. it never occurs that breath is an invitation to betray the soul.

still within the vortex i find myself fixated on him and imagine his stories are less horrific than mine. something about him separates clouds and i think he is the eye of peace.

i want him inside of me.

i want with aching precision the light-filled bliss radiating from his eyes to fill me up, to release me from the trappings of pantomime observation. i want the wild and billowing need of my long interred heart to touch the abbreviation of his.