Because in the end, all we all ended up wanting
was It.
Not the fun, the productivity, the connection,
Not anything we found at the beginning.
Now all we wanted (and still want,
Whether we are sober, dealing or somewhere in between)
Is to find ourselves the tiny shards of zero-
We will stop at nothing to
chase the white dragon.

And where is she now?
What is she doing?
Well she is here,
In most ways,
for him.
Funny that Irony.

So lonely and alone was she,
our Key,
that the thought of her self being good enough
for him to need
was more than anything she could ever need.


And now,
her brain slows a lot,
loving herself,
just as difficult a lot
and she misses being herself again.
Not part of the THE LOCK AND THE KEY,
but just
herself again
   An enigma,
Misty mystery.

The Jungle Cat and his mate,
Captain Hectic, tell me
I am no longer a player in this game,
I have stepped back and I am now...
An overseer? A witness?! A referee even? Or just above or beyond it all?

Yet still he sits at The Vipers House,
Being eaten alive by invisible sharks
Of one who has been in the game Far longer than he
One who bats her lashes
And incites guilt from housewife
hospitality.
   And all these many, merry men,
How They do
flock and flutter
Like moths to a flame, that is just more darkness
****** in by neon lights and fake bluster.
  

Roundabout,
So here we go again,
Sweeping up any evidence of this deal
Baggies, pins and needles,
a twisted array of steel,
Tiny shards of Zero
Left out for The Key
To clean

She will hold her heart
So Tight inside now,
  She does
Lock it till the chains ****** her skin
This screaming pain,
The vicious words
   just too much
For one dissociative to bear.

Can't feel the brutality
Of the words,
Like knives, one upon another
Straight into her heart,
   No she can't feel it, won't feel it,
Just turns her head away,
   Switches her heart to off...

She won't be hurt anymore....