17
How dare you.
Damn you for loving me again.
All alone with myself
for so very long.
Living in my fantasies
surviving our past.
Then you yank me out
into the fresh air
and you shock me with it.
Warm and Sunny.
It feels chocolate~y smooth
touching me all over
even down in the tiny cracks
and potholes where I left myself.
To rot.
Damn you for holding my hand
pulling me free from the mire.
That sucking, stinking slop.
Pulling me to your heart.
Smashing your love
into my soul
stepping back
brushing the hair from my eyes
kissing my forehead…
Ohhh, sooooo tenderly…
Damn you for shoving me back in.
Holding me under~
and sprinting away…
(invisibly)
Again.
