pieces of me: poems

piece nineteen

I feel myself slipping

between reality and my dreams.

You are my ideal partner in my head,

but in person, you never meet the criteria.

I feel myself losing touch

with my inner thoughts and desires.

I want to be held,

but your skin burns mine like fire.

I feel myself turning toward desperation

when I realize I don't mean what I'm saying.

Every look becomes a compliment,

even when the stare feels like spiders crawling up my back.

I feel myself forgetting who I am

and what brought me to this state of mind;

why it feels as if a smile doesn't belong on my face,

and reality isn't a good enough place.

6.4.2023