An aversion to being known,
not unlike a lure to being unseen,
neither here, nor there,
not even in between.
Your eyes fail you,
if you can’t close them and see all that I am,
your heart betrays you,
if you’ve settled on my confines, your hologram.
I’m not yours, his,
hers nor mine,
I don’t belong here,
there, nor in any time.
acid and livid,
spirited and vivid.
Most people are not brutal enough,
to punish themselves to the point of harm,
a sadism of pain,
to appreciate how alive they are.
The most honest experience I’ve tasted,
is that dishonesty seeps from my marrow,
there is hope yet,
perhaps in this pool of maim,
this wound licking orgy,
is where I can relish in narcissistic pride,
mortality clenched between jaw and jugular,
that I have something left that resembles a sensitive heart.
And it’s precisely that sensitivity,
that keeps me from you,
worlds apart, worlds apart.
I have no interest in lending,
a fibre, nor borrowed time,
regrets have become,
an easily avoidable past time.