He tears free
these last stitches of sanity
and I come apart again
I am just another open wound.
He pulls blissfully out
of this supposed reality,
and I realize that I've been
dreaming from the start.
Would I be so enamored
with what I don't fully understand
if I knew what it looked like
beneath the carefully masquerading
shades of curiosity...
and would I be so blissfully unaware-
if I could hear the cursing undertones
thrown at me from behind
all his empty words?
He steps over me carefully-
kind enough to dodge this issue
but not too willing to stop
to hear me out- to hear at all
what I would have liked to say
before the sun went down last night
Another year behind me, and again,
another day of wondering
why nothing has changed at all...
when all I have to do
is stare this down-
I could get away still,
if only I weren't aching
just to end this now...
just to give in.
and wake up in the morning.
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