The People

The Place. . .

She could really be in a better place.

Away from me.

But she does not care.

She does not bother.

And I do not mind.

It's her way.

Her way of being.

I could never change that .

It would be tragic.

But I should remember she's the one that left.

Left what?

My bottomless pit of despair?

Did she find the end?.

If so I must find a way.

A way to communicate with her.

Because I want out of this too.

Steps to get to a common agreement:

I know she would do anything.

Anything for me.

I could only do the same in return.

Unrelated to the topic.

Otherwise common.

But is her view a mirage of strange things ?

Strange but needed.

Couldn't go without it.

It wouldn't be ok.

This irrelevancy reached an irrevelant point.

No point to make but the one to get too.

Maybe an appointment with the surgeon.

Trade hearts and minds.

Feel each others confusion.

But she can be calm about it.

Only in my dreams would I ever dare.

But no memories have been made.

Nothing to live for.

Or is it the urge to make memories with each other.

Excuse the otherworldly thoughts.

But you look good in red.

A tangent blood red.

A thousand times I'll tell you.

You're so good at pretending.

Lies!

You're the worse.

Or do I know you too well.

It couldn't possibly be that?

Maybe I am obsessed with you.

Like you once said.

I thought I was doing well.

By showing that I cared.

Too much for caring for someone.

Ripped me apart and yet I came back again because you asked.

Let alone this surgery be brief and calm.

Let alone this be a contract.

Sign here:

Open up to me with no disclosure.

But don't talk anymore I just want to...

Admire your beauty in silence.

Draw a sketch and write a book about you.

That's the minimum I would do for you.

Check your mail you got the last fuck I give.

There was one only.

And only one.

I can't end it. . .

Can't figure out how.

But maybe is better like that.

To reserve a little hate for each other. . .