It’s deep, how much I want him
The need to make him mine
Fantasy crashes with reality (every f**king time)

Leaving me miserably
Cosy with dusty books,
Living in history.

A poor conducting arm
Rarely I understand, his inability to make time

I feel his pain and long to hold him
Hanging for his charms
Empty beds just tease me

Space fills silence around
As he flies by; I wonder, is freedom his?
In shadows I see him
Bubbled black in the sky

No need for him to squeeze me
Sustain me
Me, his mirage oasis
Kept in statis
Has no need for feelings
For love
A comforting arm
I survived on his lies
Words, a useless armour against the demons of pain
Waiting for his call again

So, yes, I took comfort elsewhere
It wasn’t without a care
In mind, he was present.
It has been like he was there.

He claims I do him a disservice
and that I may regret
Good luck he wishes me
And couldn’t care a less.

So, I say, fly away Peter
I say, fly away Paul
My love lasts forever
And I beg him to remember me
As no bloody fool.

******************

copyright 2022 sam j harris