Telescopic Impasse

11102882_806549989394929_6020788098817914144_n
Walk soft with slower rides.
They’re the treads.
Of my messy insides.

The fucking winds.

Such unrelenting harshness
On my pretty face.
But these eyes
Won’t drop their gaze.
They search his lines and rings.
His face.
Frozen on clean sheets.
Memories of unsaid things.

Rain used to be fun.
Now annoying?
I am unsure.

The caustic slow burning would endure.

For I am the favorite friend.
He’s true.
Clay for playtime madness?
Take my heart.
Till your fondness
Allows for all that.

But I’m his and promised, how!
No other shall taste the feel
Of his lovely warmth now.

I stand and observe.
Absorbed intimacy and affections.
The ancient horrid game
Of mirrors, tricky reflections.

This mind’s rationale
Heart’s twisted bent.
Two languages –
Same damn content.

The incomprehensible affair
Of wrong translations
Dry humor to our tragic despair.

Is this enough
What’s that?
Good and nice.
Easy.
Let’s put stamp on it
But which one?
Uncertainty is the bitch, hon.

His pain would bleed my heart out
Transfusions – no match they say.
I hate bad investments.
People are the worst kind anyway.

I like the rain.
I could try keep falling.
Till pneumonia catches me first.

Relevance of sympathies are subjected
To efficacy at receptor’s risk.
Dead eyes, broken ears won’t do shit.
The pain is yours.
Transfers can’t be fixed.
Got the tech for that?

No. It doesn’t fucking exist.

Advertisements

No comments yet? Your thoughts are welcome.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s