Why have you trapped me in my own dwelling?
I hope one day I will be left alone.
Purged of your rigid edges that graze my insides.
Slice the flesh on my hips for the sting is indistinguishable from your touch.
One day I desire to no longer hear your name in every melody.
Every paper line is traced with hurt that you enkindle.
But I don't wish to relive any wretched endearment we possess between us.
Yet, if you laid your soul down in front of me I'd pour ink into it until you stopped denying the flavor of my substance.
Every now and again I feel your hand brush against my skin as if you are longing for me.
I hope you still cogitate my existence and how we pressed our spines against each others in the depths of the night even when you could no longer hold me.
There is something almost petrifying about feeling so secure with someone so treacherous.
I imagine a world of grey manifested from every clear eye I took for granted.
But when we were immersed in each others synced bodies I couldn't separate love from reality.
Waiting for a stretch of mentality,
that never came.
Yet everyday was a wait at the phone, hoping I'd hear your voice stretching miles to reach me, because that's how it felt to love you.
But if I never wrap myself with you again,
I hope you've been set free.
