There’s a ponderous reality,
Really,
That knocks about
On the door in front of me,
The one labeled Home.
Glaring,
Daring me:
Yield.

I ruminate
Berating myself in
Dramatic parades of
Of gashes
Seeded deep
In haphazard running
Of a careless heart
Causing too much scarring
To relinquish
Control
Of a new breath.

But then again
I look
At that page
Where not enough words
Scribe how I feel

It’s indescribable

Nothing left to write
Because nothing’s missing
Misery’s been cast out
Squabbling the scramble of my attempted grasp
See, it gave me comfort for so many years
I find misery in not having it
Mostly though, I feel the drop of you
Holding my head
Spiraling down
Into the lush of you

The embrace that
Have your eyes
The ones that are blue
Flirting with grey
The ones that look at me
With such adoration
That I think you must be
Staring through me
Until I realize
I am the dead end.
I am yours,
Don’t you know.
Unforgivably yours.