Saturday, March 14, 2015
I can, in a disguise of tangential familiarity, knod to your rants, and I'd get away with oblivion. I tried keeping up with a continuum of versions of you. And I thought that you were my regular stranger. But my paradoxical, parallel conundrum of versions of truth take turns to manifest themselves and I'm often an alien to me. I am my own regular stranger.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Everyday I'm afraid of losing you, and everyday I lose you. You drift away into secret spaces and I let you. If it means you finding yourself, I'll let me lose you again.
I'll spin back in time while you spin off to tomorrow. I'll spend me on our traces and you'll still be gone. Even if this takes me back to waiting, I'll empty myself again.
There's so much to feel every time you leave, I almost find myself too.
And pain is my best déjà vu.