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Poetry

Hug my brain
and kiss my eyeballs,
There were no
   silly invisible walls.
 
But forced I love yous
shuttled in fast,
And out of nowhere
   the spells were cast.
 
The majick is turning
from white to black
with all of the sentiments
   you choose to lack.
 
....and a little voice
from the corner of my soul
whispers into your mist....
 
“I’m a bridge, I’m a bridge,
I’ll help you get over your last—
I’m a bridge, I’m a bridge,
I’ll help you get over your past—
I’m a bridge, I’m a bridge,
I’ll help you get over me too—
I’m a bridge, I’m a bridge,
I cannot help but help you.”
 
And through
those invisible walls
I can see—
Your aloof redolence
   speaks to me....
 
“Don’t worry my dear,
I’m not even here.
If there was anything I wanted
I would subtly disappear.
 
I wouldn’t confront
what I really feel,
I’ll just back up
until you reel
 
And when you ask
I’ll shake my head,
And you’ll bid my goodbye
for me instead.”
 
So sad,
so stale,
so annoying,
so dead.
 
I wish,
I love,
I live
in my head.
 
....and so it goes....
 
It’s all the same,
Yet again
I duped myself
in vain,
Sustaining disdain
in this ridiculous game,
Denying the sun
would ever refrain,
And leave me once more
   in the pouring rain—
 
For this I know—
I’m truly insane.
 
Thin line you know....
Between love and insanity....
 
I suppose I’m glad
to have my wits about me again.
As are you, I’m sure.
 
Even if....
 
Our love has been reduced
to nothing but poetry
 
no longer in motion.
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