They said I was strange
or I appeared so,
with straggly hair, leaning against augmented plastic..
curve-shaped, hoping it could keep me together.
I felt a bit like dying, collecting dusty memories
and building a bedside grave; falling asleep, asleep forever.
You’ll never understand, no one makes me feel like you,
not sure why you love someone in fragments,
shining as a complete-circle, that goes round and round;
as every night opens up to the day..
I want to climb over the perpetual
and jump off, off, into waves of verbal thrashings and angry sex!
but no, no, it’s all glamour – romantised, like nior-suicide, or Elizabethan mannerisms;
I would be nothing but empty veins and arteries; passionless and reflective,
like a shallow pool of water - without you, I am madness, I am lost.
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