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Abort!
This collapsed coping mechanism has left me alamort 
I was just a shameful conjugal visit
And a muse for playing with fire 
You never questioned me and that's how I know you’re not innocent 
You're a walk on a frozen pond;
Irritated on the surface but internally pernicious
I'm an autotelic where my adulation is the dripping ink 
And your scorn is the water running over it 
Be your own crisis hotline when the shame kicks in 
And pierces me like a non-reciprocal “you are not alone in this” 
Museum of shortcomings or gallery of honorable attempts? 
Ineffable, but I can’t help myself
Relaying this information is the only way I can move on 
I'm seeing glimpses of something I should talk to in the corner
But the hand I'm extending has the strength of a signal fire underwater 
This can’t be how this ends
I'm disturbingly calm because the dejection hasn't kicked in yet
I put your name on the bullet 
so everyone knows you were the last thing that went through my head 

You're lacking daytime context 
With a fallible idiolect 
Pick up a book and read
So a tree can sigh relief that there's life after death 
Will heaven open up if I try to heal by decathecting? 
My throat is raw from screaming to gods who just aren’t listening 
Burdened in ustulation while you pare me from earth's core 
It's everything you and distance wanted and more 
I'm seeing glimpses of someone I could relate to in the corner 
But I’m dissected by the dichotomic voices of psychosis versus candor 
Maybe this really is how it ends;
Dying lethargically as I look at the nonexistent watch on my hand 
Because time is a construct 
Like the plot we say we lost but we outgrew it before we learned how to love
The immortality of fiction is beautiful but cruel
The tacendas come in slicing but they leave just as quickly 
The remedies leaves me gutted and demoralized like dangling poultry 
A tear dilates into a lake of drowning imposter syndrome
Do you admire me like falling snow?
Or find me too fervidly frigorific to get to know?
Ironic because the visions of you in my head 
Are so chilling, I get delusional 
and start ripping off my clothes 
My tongue lost the motivation of sound before I could even think 
I'm an autotelic where my adulation foreordains the dripping ink
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