The explanation to everything.
Needless to say, you were never mine.
Months spent remembering, relentlessly slipping into
Succulent daydreams, dead to the desire I felt for the forbidden.
You were the youth I yearned for, but felt not a single stem
From the rosy thorns you lent me;
Fall back, fast-forward.
History holds onto twisting tapestries,
The embroidery I sought to burn.
You tore at every thread,
Instead of sweeping away.
Where I fell, right back into you.
“Catch me” were the words;
I stumbled subconsciously
Back into your Russian roulette—
Lest we forget…
The mouse wheel where you kept me…
(When will the turning stop? Miracles no longer exist. I put this in the devil’s hands before I trust you again.)