Aperture

 

How long must we wait to  
Filter that which kills love and
Breeds envy. The porch never
Seemed so inviting, but I wait
Until light turn black. Knowing you
Almost as much as the streaks
left on canvases, found on streets,
Desolate but thriving with culture.
Cultured dishes lie in wait, I share
Much of my nature. Pupils dilating
As paces speed and colors fade
Out of shirts run through the wash.
What are you doing to my clothes?
You know how much I love can
Never be the same, but it helps me
Remember. Impulses Stimulating,
Instinct no longer lounging; not
Content with its mangled feelings.
Lips were weird growing up, and 
I never liked them until you asked me to.
Volumes lower, following bones that know
Nothing. Fearing unknown or fearing
What is now known, by bodies on
Bedroom floors with old carpets and
Horrible tempers. Stalling engines die;
Smoke rises from pain of never knowing
How this can happen, and why it could
Never happen again. Boxes held by Eve
Seem to be full again, despite never closing.
The glances still aren't helping anything.
Nothing matters when everything does to
You what I wish it would to me. Nothing
Matters when everything matters; You
Split my atom knowing exactly
What you were doing.

This poem is about: 
Me

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