I find myself
often
excusing this void
letting the pain
of not having you
reach in and smother the flames

[This is where I give into just being]

When its only
muttering nonsense
that serves as a platform
for my existance
I wonder why the greatest effect
of this moment
is the knowledge
that
you do not want me

[This is where I question passion]

I am hanging by a golden thread
over the branches of bare convience
a measly excuse
for loving you
for wanting you
for not having you

[This is where I whisper that the rumors are true, I cry]

Sometimes
always
I think about
the exact second
I let animalistic desires
exchange themselves
with bittersweet endings
and stunning prospects

[This where I let vunerablilty tell the story]

The heaviness
of being alone
of being the stand-still center
in a chaotic sphere
is the world
on this ring

[This is where I end and you begin]