like a wilting flower...

that conversation betweeen us that night, like daggers instead of darts used in a game or two, instantly ripping everything apart cruelly.

I'm sorry if i didn't appear this fragile to you. But i am.
'Forgive and forget' they always say. You're forgiven. And i hope I'll forget this emotionally brutal episode eventually. Its become my daily prayer, begging the Lord to help me win this battle inside me.

And now, the ringing of those words, still so extremely vivid in my cranium, sometimes i feeel i could hardly breathe - like an ugly monster robbing me of
the essence of my bare elements.

;its killing me softly inside. but i'm still smiling at you. don't worry.



ignorance to awareness is a one way street.
too late to detach
like old times.

God damn,
how the tables have turned.
and how very ironic that
self-control
should be my weakness.


the clutches
of dreaded love
on a gluttonous heart
too full, too fast
the opposite of broken.
saturated, and swelling
bittersweet rhythmic aching.

rapidly building pressure
in an already tight chest cavity.

feet firmly planted
on instability
(inconsistent priorities.)
ragged breath from constricted lungs
(fluctuating atmospheres.)
coughing the black tar
of poisonous passion

I wish there were platelets
to clot emotion.
not even rain can quench this wilted flower now.