Mirage.

unfinished.

California smile,

And,

London eyes.

But, she

Loves like

A car crash.

Tangled and bloody,

Her hands

Over my chest.

Kisses on my neck,

Which bite

Goodbye.

My white shirt

Doesn't fit her

Anymore.

She looks so

Out of place.

I wonder

Where her

Home is.

Where she

Can finally rest.

Peace for her,

Isn't my soundproof

Apartment.

It isn't

What I have to offer.

She keeps

Distancing herself.

Why does she run?

Can she

Outrun herself?

Everyone knows,

Where they belong.

To somewhere,

To someone.

To nowhere.

I ask her,

Repeatedly.

Where do you belong?

Are you mine?

She just smiles,

Her frothy laughter

Dilutes her favorite,

Stale coffee.

"You can't own me",

Her eyes twinkle.

"I am not meant

To be

Claimed."

Let us,

Be this way.

No definition.

No closure,

Just a sweetened

Maybe.

And, Deliberately

Unfinished.