Convoluted and contrived,

derived from the smallest transgression;

you believe you became my possession.


This is hard to bare, this mark...

a drama in which virtues and vices embark.

A senseless obsession,

propelled by

accepting divine presence to: "give all to love, obey thy heart."


Projecting bad relationships onto me, instead you leave:

leaving me faceless in your mind, without identity.

With your fabricated fears of the possibilities of infidelity,

widening the already literal gap - no empathy.

A single text to end it all - sufficed in your mind.

Possessions sometimes get thrown out without explanation.

It feels like history is repeating itself.


When words with meaning fall short of what I mean to say,

it's like the delivery of expression is caught between two chasms far apart.

Like two separate languages, two foreign tongues.


*These chasms are too great, too far apart.