Spinning throughout modified tapestries of a better time.
My body is an oyster for something great.
It houses the muse quietly without a word.
Absurd idiocies of life’s autocracies.
Discipline, stability, secure and instilled within my brain.
Common ground with a common enemy.
Will this diminish me?
My life is defined by blasphemy.
I take what you give me; spit it in your face.
My lips a red.
Your face blemish of deceit.
I want to pop it, watch all the disease dissolve within you.
I pull over the blinds, draw the curtains once more, insanity is a closing door.
I take solace in him.
He brings humanity to my ever dwindling cause for sanity.
He sees what I exemplify to so little.
I tilt towards the sphere of circulating beauty.
To him I could be.
But who wants to circulate around that?
Him, him, him.
What about me?
There’s always a him in the equation for simplicity.
Yet, somehow I’m alright with this.
I better myself because of it.
Without it, I’m lost.
Companionship is what we’re prone to do.
So why fight me and you.
Evolve into something more than the tendencies of an adolescent dream.
I feel so transparent around you.
You allow clarity to my heart, though my initial reaction is to fog it up thick.
The beat is so pronounce, so vibrant.
The humming of a pathetic love song, it brings musical vibrancies of Spring.
I want to sing along with it, though I’ll curse myself for the revelation.
Kissing you honestly, I think I can be happy.
It’s a strange foreign land of mystery to me, like as once to you my body.
Yet, I keep it festering, for this to burn out would have me rue the ending.
Happiness becomes me, elated and smiling, I’ll deny you my everything.
Although, I feel you will accomplish the victory.
I foresee you as prosperous and eventful, .
I just hope that you will consistently elaborate the better parts of me as you grow to succeed.
Everlasting, for a cynic that’s a proposal for commitment.
Be weary of it.
© Copyright 2016 Kathleen Megquier. All rights reserved.