Damaged goods, baggage lugging,
in desperate need of comfortable hugging,
every night, every time until she knows,
any way it goes, it will all be just right.
Socks mixed with pants and shirts everywhere,
she needed structure, someone to care
for her and her impeccable disorders,
with a mindset that borders
on pathologically obeying to any kind of order.
I tore myself away back then,
three years ago, when
all you had to do was say hello,
when all your wishes were granted,
movements were enchanted,
ideas implanted
in a dream, an idea,
never what it had to seem.
Gone you were so proud,
apart you were so happy,
when you chose, even more than when not,
it resided in knowing what you've got.
It always seemed so terrifying,
to stop trying,
to struggle with lying
to yourself about her purity
when all you want is clarity.
You want it, don't need it,
so be it.