If I fall, unbidden, into your idle daydreams,
Do you scourge me from your head with thought-blades,
Gouge me from the soft grey jelly with a blunt steel mind-spoon?
And how precise are these eviscerations?
Perhaps you may just miss a lingering memory;
That birthday kiss, your hands like angels whispers on the nape of my neck.
The glance across the room, or one of my fleeting messages,
Vanishing in seconds, but scribed indelibly into your psyche.
Or not so indelibly; perhaps you never think of me at all,
Or only as you think of other embarrassments, and guilty pleasures,
With a vague distaste, and a promise to yourself to do better.
If it's the former, and you find yourself gouging,
Dig deeper, my darling, I would wish to be gone forever
from your lightly troubled mind,
I can bear to be reviled, I can bear to be a torment,
I cannot bear to be a troublesome fly-thought, easily swatted,
An irritating echo, or a faint and tainted ***** dream.