I have a question

Say I do I speak my mind in return for response
But what comes to term becomes firmly ensconced… as a given
A fact, though evermore absent
Since waxing such lyrics just never end rampant… with me
So now… where am I?

Say I do put in words that my heart is at race
That my self-worth’s belittled behind this straight face
That my dearth is that utter sensation of bliss
Numbness to sadness: that pleasant abyss
Is heaven where caring not how I might move
the cosmos of him that I so of approve?
******* hell, where am I?
Can you tell?

Will I lose what I have; what I had, for the bard
Because trailing it marks it as lost from the start
Will I miss what I lost, if I lose it, that is
And forget once it’s over, those dimples of his
Might I love being lost?
Lost in love:  where am I?

This infectious yammer that ***** with my mind
Turns out, often seldom to sounding…well, kind
But if kindness means not being true and intent
I’d rather be ruthless, uncouth, but unbent
**** it hurts, why is that?
Where am I?
And formerly:  why?

It is scary, but true…though snappishly shoved
To be trusted is grander than just being loved
To be missing in action as he turns away
Might be just what I sought… so I venture to say:
I am lost at no cost where I am… then I bow
It tastes like withdrawal…

But then, hey, that’s just now.