You are a Strange Denial . . . I was a Forced Quit

A stale interaction, a raw affair, two which are the world of my existence. I fight the day to cry the night so humbly at the feet of nothingness. Because there is nothing. There could be nothing, but there was something. A tear at the gaping hole of my existence. A love that shattered the rights and rules of life. You stood there portraying the innocence one, as I dazzled my eyes about your body, and up I go to your mind which is so complex, that I can’t imagine it has room for me. In that deep breath, did you catch it? All the words I wanted to say to you, spilled out then were sucked back in. I’m no one’s muse, or should I say I’m not standing before you with anything to offer. If so I wouldn’t be standing. I would laying down beside you in a place I know only exists in my head. Surrounding myself with something beautiful. That beautiful thing is you. And I’d thought you’d never ask. I thought I would be swimming in this pool of filthy dreams forever. I thought I would be some dying rose you hang upside down. How pitiful when I think or was thought of as just a daydream. Something house wives tell their friends, but not their lovers. You were a strange denial, I was a forced quit. And here I am, standing as a proud lady should, looking you in those eyes that had me in a trance this whole time. You knew. You have always known. What a great sympathy you gave me, in my deep sadden lost. What a fight you brought on, when I answered all the questions right, and gave a chance of freedom as an option. There was never any doubt in my mind I belonged there. Though here I am, still smelling the traces of where you left me. Taking that breath in as a reminder, and spilling myself out in the cold air. I would have never walked away. I couldn’t. The strong heart I have wouldn’t let it go. It kept me singing through the rough times for you to come back. That there would be a miracle. Those days dead with reality. I smile at this, or laugh at that, and think fondly about what could have been a happiness equal expressed by both parties. This Romeo and Juliet, this was all just a sham in my brain. Something I made up, and it was never your fault. You can never be what I thought you were. You could never see what I saw in you. That blindfold had to come off me some time or another, but the batting of your eyes kept me on my trail in some fucked up wonderland. Still there is a place. That place where you hide, and creep up without my knowing, it stings me and I try to look away. I look at something else and call it better. Real. But what is real now? Some pity party of self delusion. Time is what’s got my back. It seems this will fade into nothing. That’s not what I want. I was so immersed in that fossil love. It gave me hope, brought me smiles. Made the days so long and nights so short. But I could never compare. I was never the Romeo. An object in your mind, I played myself, so to speak, in your kind words, and soft kiss. I don’t feel like a fool, as much as I feel like a loss. Because I know something was real. I know something was that which now is the greatest decay of my present state. The days will go on, and I will still be writing up a dream. Writing to no extent the love mass of my delusion in you, and in us.