Wax on, wax off;
Like a train-wreck waiting to happen.
All that latent animosity that is akin to sexual tension,
Why don’t you just get it on and have it out, off, done with, whatever!
My guile, your denial. My angst, your axe to grind.
What makes you so special anyway?
Who put you on a throne of metalised sentiment
Ready for the next sucker to come along and fill your over-worn shoes?
Did no one tell you the position wasn’t permanent?
Well I have news for you, you overrated pompous, languishing lizard
Anything I felt for you is now gone!
My respect for you has been rescinded, torn away by avaricious hands,
At the expense of my own emotional wallet; too late to disdain the concordance of an arbitrary contract.
Words are like sand in the wind; gritty and abrasive to the soul,
And worthy only of a barren land where no-one resides,
Save for the ecclesiastical brightness of the sun,
Raining fiery penance down on the already dry crusted earth.
I wanted there to be so much more between us, you and I
A beautiful yet torrid affair of the fallen in arms.
I got you, you got me. Then there was that spark,
So bright and full of vigour. Appearing from nowhere
It seemed. Did not expect it, was not looking for it.
It took me by surprise and pinned me against a virtual, imaginary
Yet solid wall. A hat to be worn like a crown, my angst your axe.
A vision of electrified, palpable desire across an ocean;
Across a cosmos of thinking that brought us together,
Whose tenuous link still harbours resolve, still charges me
Full with the defibrillating action of a lightning bolt, jolts me awake
In my sleep, in my waking moments as I pass the time being human.
But in between the distance grows and I move away,
Unsure and unwanting of this climatic change. Climactic change.
Take your throne, your prize of magnanimity. I don’t care,
My door is now closed. You may not enter. You cannot have my spark.
I grieve your loss though I never had you, you were an incidental accident.
Objective, divergent, passive, a-theist.