I looked upon the sunset meeting the moon
As I sat there on the other side of the road
Lost in a train of flashbacks that kept moving
For a decade and century without reaching a destination
And all I had was this pocket-sized mirror before I
With a reflection of myself and I upon it
But all she saw was a broken piece not braced for reconstruction

Just two imperfect mates
Breeding perfection
through each other's imperfections

The pertinacious hearts
Breeding immortal devotion
through incredulous twinkies

Fictional
venom
exist

No mean no more STIGMA

In the end it made sense
When I enhanced
Personally for us
Yet he still chose himself

To dwell on laments,
Which corrupt the mind,
Ingest the soul,
And effectuate aperture to the heart?

Laments that only breed,
lividity,
Anxiety,
Even trepidation?

Initiating self-condemnation,
While free holding probability to Rise beyond
                                                          ­   Move past
                                                            ­ And letting go?