Foolish Letters.

go ahead and misinterpret my words
its a hit or miss game, my points are absurd
so why do you read what you read and write what you write
when you can't think of anything but how much you want to spite?
your over-indulgence in the emotions you hate, you feel so trite
i touched your fingertips and you give me the same ish
just a bunch of problems i don't want to solve and you don't want to haul
i'll be here keeping secretes safe no matter how small or how tall
if your looking for me i'll be off telling the story
audience's faces full of disbelief and hate for the one who would dare to leave
pushing me to a state to where i couldn't even breathe or sleep
you haunt my dreams like a well dressed wax figurine
i don't know where to go when you've come after me
and reading these love notes you send to me indirectly
have got me cringing at the thought of how we shared intimacy
in shattered patterns of broken mirrors with no signs of relevancy
to how much our toilet parts shared the satisfaction of regency
there was an absence of free will monarchy
all because you convinced me to just
love me love me

~Half finished, never a break. break away from me.

Love,
Digress.