I fell in love
when love was lost;
always the hand
that comforts,
the muse you use
to bathe distress;
and the insects I dissect
to impress the wrinkles sprinkled
along your favorite dress;
forever repressed
are those depressed,
in a coffin shell
nailed
in a satin hell.

Through your
persistent assistance,
we formed an
ethereal resistance
with the stories
that we made,
talked of self-
proclaimed renegades;
fiction more accurate
than the non-;
a panoramic view
from beyond,
just outside
the rising tide
that we love
to criticize
when together,
wielding doubled-
edged blades.

In the chameleon-
esque plains
that we became
one in
our skin, our eyes,
our lies.

Truth was
of no importance,
with invention
a reliance
to our home-
remedied alliance;

the
only
way to
acceptance
being
in[our]sanity.