glass slipper | poetry

just a millimetre

I never knew that a millimetre was the equivalent of sipping from the rubied chalice of steady venom

but this dependable poison was my sacred addiction

dragging me to the depths of a comfortable abyss, carpeted with gleaming needles

piercing my skin, letting it finally breathe through the cavities it transfixed 

I became slave to this wonderfully excruciating pain, deifying the rush it gifted

such are my feelings when I realise the gut-wrenching distance of a millimetre between us 

for even though I know our love is impossible {and has ended}

I cannot stop.

I became inebriated with your doting, and now I reap its price 

I live and gorge on the mere thought that what we once had might become true again with lambent life, hence why I am unable to say no, unable to cease

my mind relives our every moment, and restlessly thrashes with the most exquisitely agonising knowledge 

that you are, even just a millimetre, away from me 

and I am, millions of miles, away from your love