These days the praise is so long-gone:
the desire once harbored for you to belong,
you’ve gone ahead and just moved right on,
into my nest with your reach – over-long…
I can’t help but to see through the “friendly”:
the poorly fabricated façade is now crumbly,
ignored chances to walk away from it humbly,
and now, the blood in veins courses numbly…
no differences to work out between:
two people from long opposing teams,
while one keeps the other second-guessing,
behind intentions growing into forces unseen…
the equation you’ve laid out is rather easy to deduce:
you think that you’re exempt from any need for gratitude,
an explosion of the magma from my own home-made brew,
that’s seething at the threshold of my door opened up to you…
if you had any sense, you’d be driving fast and far:
as my eyes have tired of looking at your parked car,
and I feel like I know nothing of who you truly are,
beneath your suit of feathers glued onto hardened tar.
Thoroughly intriguing. You are a master at creating feeling through partial meaning; never quite revealing the crux, just taking the awestruck reader on a roller coaster. Brilliant.
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Oh my, I am humbled by your approval. It honestly means a lot to be acknowledged by such an amazing writer. Thank you.
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Now you’re humbling me…but thank you. The privilege is mine.
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Great closing line.
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Thanks!
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