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What are you waiting for?
My eyes no longer speak for me.
They've turned glassy, a permanent bluff of humanity.
Try not to look into them when you think I'll bleed my heart
you won't see a change.
I spoke, I joked, and marionetted a thousand hypotheticals in front of the mirrors
not a glimpse of me there.
Cold, distant,
the high gloss rampart
forbid access
camoflauged empty behind the lens.
I felt as much as my flat facsimile of bent light and illusion.
Fascination only in the lack of fascination.
The complete lack of surprise at what has happened to me.
How this soul was severed, ejected, and removed from my memory.
Like a bad gear, or a faulty component
stressed beyond its means and cast into the floating dark.
Still there is hope, a trace flavor when she smiles
I am alive for one glorius life time
Stirring rust and seized hinges as I echo a coy yearning
one fearful of losing her in the place that I have for her now.
Rendevous', hidden trysts, wet locks of that thing they called passion.
I fear gambling with these things, for what becomes of me once they are lost?
