ColorMe Black

And with the twisting of a knife
it all commences

a regret,
a longing or wish that something
which happened
did not

I’ll sit here
in the middle of the night
clasping on to my knees
searching for that protective glove

waiting more than anything
for it all to be over
for a sacrificial thrust
doing to me
what I never could for myself

and the funniest thing
is I’m not even sick
it’s all in my head
just like everything else that’s real

I realize that I am
my own made up character
made real only by my attention
and others by the transitive property

hold me tight
as I grasp you
even in the moment
I still doubt myself

doubt your compliance
and your reasoning
one small comment
and my treatment
has now become my affliction

you are the mother if I’m the father
If I create
It’s in you
because of you
you are the vessel which breeds my hate

with your many faces
and body’s
your very soul isn’t even shared
but still you are
my lack luster
The cause for my decay