I am disengaging with reality
I don't mean to but
I've measured my days in unrequited affection
Each day ends the same
Never is there a change
The sun still tumbles out of existence
Releasing a shroud of turpitude, for me to cloak myself in
Watching doves has become an annoyance
Daydreaming on how easy they can fly anywhere
With whomever they wish
I draw my knife and poke it against my temple
And feel the wetness of frustration tread lightly
Down it drips,
Splashing against wanted hips
Staining painted fingertips
Solidifying a destined kiss
Down, it drips
All I'm left with
Is a streak of
unrequited affection
Hoping it fades someday
But for now, it drys
Giving me the mark
Of unbridled emotions
In the shape
of a caged mourning dove.