I deviate from the mistakes i make
and take a deep breath,
no secrets kept,
but she bends and breaks,
as i regress from the changes I make,
windswept,
lost in the storm,
progression sessions,
last chance to reform,
She’s torn between two minds,

mine and hers colliding with the world
at the same time.


She's my world so i best change my climate.
Trying,

back to my prime mate.
Lying,

back to a primate.

masquerade like she can’t see through my invisible cape.
mask on my face,
she mastered her escape,
overnight stay,
left to my escapades.
Empty without her to serenade at the end of the day.



The end of days,

she understands me,
but i’ve been underhanded,
and underneath it all,
she can’t stand me.



She’s my plan A,
 and plan B,
my baby,

my plan C.
Candid,
she understands my language.



Easily to procrastinate,
but we’ve passed that place,
and soon we can procreate
and make a mini me…

But I haven’t mastered Nate,
in a drastic place,
hanging like a basket case,
leaving a bitter taste, 
in the whole vicinity.

Clinically, cynically outspoken,

like a potion was given to me,
a smokescreen,
to hide my identity.
No hope,
searching for an antidote,
or remedy,
to usurp the soul hidden deep inside me.