The Slow Burn
The Slow Burn
A subliminal mind plague, a motion suspended in time. A perpetual bliss caught by a
whim. No words of I love you, no trading time for comfort. No laughs of good will,
nor blessings. A casual encounter, a brief touch, a lasting kiss, and a squeal of
emotions bending what used to be. Lost in translation illusions of what will never be
again. meaning so much to me, but it phases you not.
Corroded beauty that used to be us, elated by a nice thought, a nice jesture that
once held me so close. Slowly confusion pushes me away, suffocates me so I cannot
breath. There you sit so care free, no consequence, no cause, and certainly no
effect. I wish I could turn the hands of time, test the fates, and go back to where
things were simple and it all didn't hurt so bad!
I contemplate so many thoughts, so many dreams I dare to dream. So much that
darkens my path, and blackens my heart. Next to you it all used to be ok, now there
is so much tension, and so much strain.
So much pain still lingers inside, I feel the black hole when I touch your chest, the
ringing inside your head. I feel the stabs of a thousand daggers beckoning in your
heart, the tension mounting in your neck. The over all pain behind your eye's.
Your aura is weak
A dim light lines your being
A slow burn is on your back.
You fear nothing, or so it surely seems.
Copyright © Dana Kirby