he is my sun.


but he is
always
obstructed

by the clouds
he makes

urging me into my.own
sunnied skies
he
sinks
into shades of muddied greys
pushing me back
into blizzards
of isolation

he.is stuck
in his
own melodramatic
reverie
unaware.of my arms
reaching for
him
hopefully.

(oh gods please, let us live....if.not.together.)

to draw him
out.

and he
dives
deeper

my hands
frac.tu-re
tear
at my deep seated longings
for
the touch of his fingers
along my spine
warming
secluded vertabrae

breathing
(psuedocandied) affections across
the arch of my neck


I
once. thought
he loved me.

and instead
I am left
with the husk
of him
the man
so scared to sit still
he was
[still is(regrettably)]
my strength
the
touch
of sun
on my shoulders

but

he refuses
to even
share his light
as friendship
aside
from a drunken call.
a texted word or two
a
'cheers'

in the wind
petals
at sea

but
he rests
in my heart

heredity

dormant

my favorite
affliction

please....


kill me.



I will follow you into the dark