do you remember when you lost it?
when you would take me hostage?
when you turned caustic?
you used my presence as your very own mental whetstone.
you called yourself psychotic,
called our words cautious, hypnotic,
but they were toxic.
they were exhaustive.
talks of the atlantic,
and how i'd cross it.
"don't worry, my flight stops in austin,
and then again in boston, i promise.
honest, i'll even book in august."
but then we tossed it,
there was a line,
and you crossed it.
sometimes you got so reckless, so hostile,
that i felt like your chaperone.
we both had to learn how to grow,
living in time zones of our own.
the air turned cold,
when we let our emotions show.
but i was lonely too,
so at least you weren't alone.
you acted as my bright summer sun,
setting my world aglow.
but every time you said hello,
i remembered how much i missed the snow.
an accidental double overdose of smoldering shoulders left me with none cold enough to hold my golden burdens.
tastes; exotic.
brain; neurotic.
mind; chaotic.
gods; agnostic,
friends; narcotics.
hope; quixotic.
love; psychotic.
(when two insane people have a close relationship interesting things happen.)
(this one is for h-bomb, and broken fishbowls.)