"Compassionate Conservatism"
and
"friendly fire":
Euphemistic oxymorons
capable of
destroying hospitals.

incandescent

Only in yellow flames,
was the outline of your body revealed,
In ethereal guise,
Chalk outlines and white lines defined my kaleidoscopic mind state,
at that peculiar time.
We should of seen the signs,
but the stars aligned,
and your nature, nefarious,
exposed the worst of both of us,
combined.
Sometimes aurora came before sleep,
and I was weak at the knees,
the calmest breeze whistled woodwind notes amongst the trees.
So sure, demure,
You asked me what I was waiting for?
And I reacted chemically,
in luminescence.
I asked you if you learnt your lesson?
It was evident that I was just your favourite daydream.
So I stayed in limerence;
exposed like windless nights to the star skies.  
Infatuated by nothing more than candle light.
I knew I was wrong,
You knew you were right.
I knew you were wrong,
You knew I was right.

Astonished at the plethora of cars outside my casket, I try to get up. But, I'm held down by chains. It's so bright through the little cracks in The casket that I have to squint my eyes.
The sunRays ask me, "are you ready for this ride?"
I'm pinned down, hell bound. All these gifts decorated around me and on top of me signify that I'm decaying.
I am the epitome of the hearts grief. Since day one I was infected by your leave. Theres a honk, then A crash. Caused by the distraction of me being buried. Theres a hole in the window, theres a girl in the seat and there's a screech.
"Wait for me girl!" I scream. I scramble to get free. Get me out of here. Where's the rescue for her soul? The wreckage burdens me. As people flea my scene, I see backs turn from me.
Just a bit overheated, i awake from this peculiar dream. Also me in the parking lot, with the key, foot on brake, rumbled and shakes to start for a drive.
It then dawns on me; I'm going to my own funeral.

You're hearing, but that does not mean you are listening.
You're seeing, but that does not mean you are watching.
You're smiling, but that does not mean you are happy.
You're nodding, but that does not mean you are agreeing.
I hang on every word as it drips from the upturned corners of your dark pink lips. I drink them in as if they were a necessity to my existence. My eyes follow your every move in front of me, from the porcupine spikes on your freshly cut hair to the dress shoes you don't like to wear. I know the placement of every freckle on your arms because I've counted the abundance of constellations on your skin a thousand times with my boring brown eyes. The biggest grin comes across my face when I even think of you and the purest form of happiness shines off of my almost white teeth. Every corner, every crevice of my smile bubbles over with gratitude for somehow ending up living in the same world as you, getting to see you every day in my passions and in my mind, having the privilege to know you. I have held my own thoughts but changed their appearance in every way to get an ounce of approval, the slightest hint at a possibility that I might be doing something right while I stand in the chaotic storm that your life is sometimes. And you taught me about perspectives, we've spent weeks on the lesson, yet you still can't see that my everything reflects what's best for you. You still don't understand that I love you.
You're flirting, but that does not mean you love me, too.

You fill me with worry.
That equal feeling as my eyes roll upwards
towards that solitary rain cloud in an otherwise sun-fuelled sky.
You make me want to raise my *******
and shout, ‘*******’.

Two cats
engaged
in a hazardous starring contest,
the first that blinks - CONCEDES!