Disjointed

Location

I love you

I am sorry,

I just lost 

 

control

 

me. Cage me.

Restrain my hopelessly pounding heart 

against your resolving grip and crushing chest.

Your will be comes my

 

will

 

you marry me?

Not my words but my hearts. Honor me with words like I

 

do

 

you even love me at all?

Maybe it’s time to take a

 

break

 

my heart fully.

Obliterate my hopes and leave me defeated.

Stand victoriously defiant over what remains of my 

 

form

 

a picture in your mind of me, happy.

Subdued to an almost willing state of oblivion, awaiting orders and a 

 

touch 

 

me. Tell me I am not paranoid.

Tell me I’m not deranged at the thought of a sudden leave and a swift 

 

break

 

me some more. Smother my intuition and

 

burn 

 

to see me

 

broken

 

dreams pour into my mutilated hippocampus in plentiful amounts

only to be absorbed into my shaking limbs,

and exercised through my flailing fists as I scream

 

fire

 

engulfs remnants of blues,

steadily converts to red temper.

Paper burns. Letters burn.

Words as void promises to the

 

world

 

domination at last.

This sphere of a soul dominated 

by a dictator of flesh, bone and destruction. 

Absolute words from absolute minds don’t

 

wait

 

until my eyes are shut,

and then from behind your back you withdraw

a memory of twelve

 

roses

 

limp on a casket,

which, in my dreamworld, now opens.

And inside a joker laughing as though I mean nothing.

And the cackle seeps into my mind

and becomes all I can see and all I can 

 

draw

 

your sword. Get ready to fight without reason 

fight on words, clawing through excuses

and over fragments of forgotten amorous 

 

lines 

 

of white and the breath of drunk dragons

skipping school just for the

 

thrill

 

seekers don’t wait until

the water once churned,

settles to 

 

clear

 

 my

 

mind

 

your own business. 

We’re doing just fine.

He is my soul mate, I

 

love

 

is a stupid word. 

The sharp shards 

and shrapnel reverberating 

off your shattering heart

 

cut

 

the scene is over.

Goodbye and Goodnight.

Now give me my

 

check 

 

to see if I’m okay.

I’m sorry.

Kiss me,

I love you.

Poetry Slam: 

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